The One with the Wedding in Cancun
by POGs
Summary: Another pea fic: a certain couple are planning a week away for their stag do, hen do and wedding.....much mischief inside!
1. Chapter 1

**_So, here it is...the long awaited new pea fic...the peas, by the way, are Kate and I (Em). _**

**_We don't own anything - more's the pity!_**

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Harry shook his head and wondered, idly, if he had gone soft in his old age. How he had ended up putting himself on the line like this, he wasn't one hundred percent sure, although a niggling part of his mind told him that it had a lot to do with the images of a scantily clad and sun-kissed Ruth that had flooded his mind the moment the words beach, sun and wedding were mentioned. In fact he'd had to concentrate very hard on what was being said in order to rein his overactive imagination in a bit.

As he had expected, Juliet hadn't made things easy on him but, then again, he always did enjoy their verbal sparring sessions, particularly when he won. Having put forward his argument for why the best agents in section D should be allowed to swan off and sun themselves for a week, Juliet had scowled a little and called him something he didn't quite catch. He knew she could do it. The threat level was down to moderate for the first time in 2 years and the remaining staff across both his and other departments were more than enough to cover six missing Spooks and a techie. It had taken some time, but she had eventually agreed to his request, called him an old romantic and then ushered him out of her office stating that she had an important lunch to get to.

"Oh, and next time you try and sweet talk me into one of your plans, Harry, an invite might be nice. Tends to soften me up, a little, the thought of relaxing in a pool with a Bloody Mary," she called to his retreating frame.

"I thought witches couldn't go into the water," he turned around and retorted, good humouredly, while she fixed him with a glare.

"I can easily void the rest of the year's holiday for all of D, as compensation for my troubles, Harry."

He smiled at her, almost warmly, and she gave what could be classed as a smile in return.

"Besides, am I to assume, then, Harry, that this was all just a formality, anyway? You've no doubt got this all booked up anyway."

"No, for once, Juliet, I followed the rules. Shocking to hear, isn't it? When Zaf told me what he and Jo wanted to do for their wedding, I promised to find out what I could do, and arrange the rest for him. I know a man who knows a man. A late booking is no problem, even getting some of the best suites in the best hotels."

"Leon Alvarez?"

"Well, he had to have some uses after we agreed to his terms of release."

--

"Do you think he'll be able to pull it off?"

"If anyone can, it'll be Harry," Ruth whispered to the young blonde woman who was trying, and failing, not to look worried.

"He's been gone a while, Ruth, and Zaf said that he wasn't certain if Harry was even listening to him half the time." Jo's whispers were urgent and Ruth silently hoped that Harry not only returned with good news, but that he did it soon. She had a feeling that the blonde might need sedating otherwise.

The sound of the pod doors opening made both women hold their breath in anticipation. Jo reached for Ruth's hand and squeezed it to an almost painful level when they noted the familiar figure of Harry exiting the pods and walking determinedly across the Grid and into his office.

"Oh God, I can't bear this much longer!"

"Jo, I think you should come and sit down." Zaf had appeared at her side and the three of them now looked very conspicuous. It wasn't going to be a surprise much longer if they kept whispering about it and Zaf had promised Harry that they wouldn't utter a word until everything had been sorted. As it was, Ruth had already found out thanks to Jo's sudden inability to keep a secret. Reluctantly, Jo had agreed to at least sit at her desk and pretend to do some work whilst they waited to hear from Harry.

Twenty minutes later, Harry appeared in his doorway and rather loudly ordered them both into his office. Jo almost fell over her chair in her haste and Ruth tried not to giggle as Zaf managed to keep his girlfriend on her feet. They really made a very sweet couple, she thought. She watched them as they disappeared inside his office, crossing her fingers and trying not to look too obvious as she watched what was happening through the gaps in the open blinds.

"Ruth, knows, doesn't she?"

"Knows what?" asked Jo, blushing furiously

"Knows that we're off for a week in Cancun next Saturday. Playing cute may work with Zaf, Jo, but you should know better."

"Oi," protested Zaf, indignantly.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I, it just slipped out. I didn't….wait? You did it?"

Harry nodded slowly, looking pleased with himself. I've just spoken to an ex-mob boss I know, who knows a few people in the industry - Leon Alvarez. He's booked us in at JW Marriott Cancun Resort & Spa. It's quiet season, and he's got enough rooms the six of us, and your immediate family, and this…" He handed a shell shocked Jo a small downloaded pamphlet, entitled Intimate Wedding Packages, a white sandy beach and a small white gazebo contrasting with a background of blue sea meeting her eyes. With that, she could restrain herself no longer, and her arms found themselves wrapped around Harry's neck.

Harry looked mildly uncomfortable with the attention and merely patted Jo on the back, awkwardly, as his eyes drifted upwards and met with the startled blue ones, whose owner was sat at a desk across the room.

Unlatching herself from her death-grip on him, Jo then softly walked towards Zaf, clasping his hands to pull him nearer, before running her palm across his cheek and whispering a soft 'I love you' before kissing him, slowly. Harry rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, wondering which of the situations was least embarrassing.

As it was, his mind was still focused on the woman beyond the glass walls. Stepping across the threshold and onto the Grid, he didn't even care that he'd left a rather loved-up couple in his lockable office. Instead, all he could think about was wanting to see Ruth's face when he told her the plans.

As he approached, she was still wrestling uncomfortably with her emotions. She knew it was stupid – Jo was engaged to, and in love with, Zaf – but as the blonde had flung herself at Harry, she had felt an unnecessary pang of jealousy.

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_**There you have it - chapter one. What did you think? **_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Enjoy. **_

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"She's, er, she's a bit over excited." If she didn't know better, Ruth would have sworn that a light pink blush was evident in Harry's cheeks.

"It went well then?"

"Yes. That's, um, that's what the hug was for." He looked back in the direction of his office and then quickly back at Ruth. "Although, Zaf seems to be getting thanked quite thoroughly too." Ruth couldn't help but start to giggle at the look on his face, a mixture of outrage and bewilderment that they would behave like that in his office of all places. "I don't suppose you fancy going in there with a bucket of water do you?!" he implored.

"Er, no. Sorry, Harry."

"Guess I'll just have to wait here then," he muttered as he pulled a chair up to her desk. "You don't mind do you?"

Not trusting herself to answer that question without sounding too eager, she settled for a quick shake of her head and a small smile. Valiantly, she attempted to continue her work but the knowledge he was sat less than a foot away from her, combined with the feel of his eyes as he watched her, was too much and she gave in and looked at him. Their eyes met briefly, as he held her stare before giving a cough and blinking hard.

"It's, er, we fly out this Saturday. Cancun."

"Sounds lovely," she replied, smiling at him softly. "The Mayan ruins there are supposed to be wonderful."

He chuckled, a throaty and warm sound, and her eyebrows raised themselves in question. "I just can't imagine any of the rest of our motley crew finding that as interesting as you or I," he replied, in answer.

"We'll have to go together, then," she mused, without thinking, and then stopped dead in her verbal tracks. "That is, er, if you want to see them, we might as well, well, go. Together."

"It's a date," he answered with a small wink at her.

She didn't have chance to respond as Zaf and Jo decided to choose that precise moment to wander out of Harry's office with decidedly goofy grins plastered across their faces, and finally announced to the Grid that they were engaged.

The place erupted in applause and congratulatory noise, plunging the Grid into a happy kind of chaos. Not many days ended with good news in their profession and so it was perhaps inevitable that they ended up in The George drinking champagne less than fifteen minutes later, sharing the news of the forthcoming arrangement, and the secret planning and plotting of the whole thing that they managed to keep rather well hidden from a team of Spooks.

Within ten minutes, the group had split into their typical arrangements. Ros had drifted towards Malcolm, who seemed to be willingly, if nervously, engaged in a discussion about holidays and hot sun, and was now mumbling something about sunburn and sunstroke.

Adam, Zaf and Jo were stood together around a waist high table, laughing, and in the corner of the room, Harry and Ruth were engaged in conversation.

"Do I need to arrange anything for the trip, Harry? Flights, room?"

"No, none of that. It's all arranged. Your own room, of course."

"Of course," Ruth stuttered, blushing and finding the glass of rose in her hands suddenly very interesting.

"Ruth," beckoned Jo, in what couldn't have been a better timed moment. "Zaf and I have something to ask you." Ruth excused herself from her conversation with Harry and stepped over towards where Adam and Zaf were standing together and smiling. "Ruth, I, well, _we_ were wondering, would you be maid of honour at the ceremony?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. You're one of our best friends, Ruth, and in truth, it was some of your gentle encouragement that got us this far. It'd mean a lot to us," the blonde replied.

Ruth tried not to cry as she and Jo flung themselves at each other and hugged one another for dear life as a rather bemused Zaf looked on. When they had finally managed to calm themselves, Ruth answered that she would be both delighted and honoured to play such an important role in their wedding.

More hugging and ensued and Zaf was slightly surprised to find himself enveloped in Ruth's arms. He noted that she smelt very nice at the same time as his eyes met with Harry's over her shoulder.

The look the older man gave him wasn't unfriendly as such, but there was definitely something in the look that made Zaf extricate himself rather quickly and start to babble.

"We, er, we already asked Adam."

"To be maid of honour?!" she teased

"No, no. Best Man."

"I understood Zaf, I was just kidding!"

"Oh, right. Ok," he muttered distractedly, before clasping Jo's hand in his and practically dragging her to the bar, leaving Ruth suddenly alone and at a complete loss as to what had just happened.

"I don't think he fancied his chances if Harry's glare got any more menacing," came a soft voice from behind her.

"His, er, glare, Adam? I'm not sure I follow you," she gulped, wondering whether or not - if it was what she dared to imagine - it was a wonderfully exciting prospect, or a terrifying one.

"Yes, Ruth, his glare."

"Oh, er, why would he, um, glare? Zaf didn't do anything, did he?"

"No, no more than Jo did when I saw you watching her hug Harry."

"Adam…" she sighed, shaking her head.

"On the other hand, I'm not one to be intimidated into leaving a pretty lady standing alone. If he insists on being jealous, he might at least be jealous of the single bloke amongst us. Come on," he laughed at the roll of her eyes and shake of her head, placing a friendly arm around her waist and ushering her towards the bar, "let's get you another drink."

"Adam…" she sighed, again.

"I'm not going to interfere, Ruth. Just open you eyes, please."

She allowed Adam to steer her towards the bar, all the while knowing that he was watching them. Watching her. She had somehow developed the ability to know when he was staring at her…it was the cause of many stomach butterfly attacks and she marvelled that such a simple thing could be something so wonderful.

It had never been acknowledged - the mutual looks, glances and, upon occasion, touches that only they knew - or so she had thought, but Adam's words, however jovial had given her a lot to think about.

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_**Please review **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**The more this progresses, the more it probably becomes something of a a relief to most people that we don't own these characters.**_

_** Enjoy!  
**_

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Ruth yawned and glanced at the clock. It was only 3.30pm and already she was flagging. In truth, it was her own fault. Having returned from the George at about 11.30 last night, she had then decided to do an in depth holiday wardrobe analysis on a scale previously only know to Trinny and Susanna. What was more flattering, bikini or swimsuit? Were shorts ok once you'd hit 30 and not seen any sunnier weather than a weekend in Cornwall in over two years? And did that strapless bra really do anything for her under her delicate cammi tops? God, how she had agonized. By midnight, nothing could be seen of either the bed or the floor, and old sagging bikinis and tired looking shorts hung from draw knobs and chairs. And that was nothing compared to the amount of outfits she had tried on for the hen night she would be attending mid-week. All of her outfits were either far too dressy and refined, or far too warm for the tropical Cancun climate. N_o_, she had decided, _I definitely need to shop_. Having eventually cleared a space in which to both get to, and sleep in, the bed, had taken her until nearly one am, and it had required several cups of tea and coffee to see her through until this point today. Now all she had to do was hope that it stayed quiet enough for her to sneak out at half four and buy everything in her mental holiday list.

By five past four, things were looking promising, when Harry walked over to her desk and announced he was leaving to sort out something important, and wouldn't be back on the Grid tonight. He said that she wasn't to worry and could go home as soon as she was done with her work.

Setting a brisk pace as he walked away from Thames House and towards the city, Harry hoped like hell that he wouldn't get called back into work. He had an incredible amount to do and not much time to do it in. He reached into his pocket and dragged out the hastily scribbled list that he had made at some ungodly hour that very morning.

As he scanned down the list again, he noted that most items should not cause him a great deal of concern - sun tan lotion and sunglasses were two things that he was fairly certain would take him all of ten minutes to purchase. It was the rest of the list that had him worried. Never one to enjoy shopping, Harry was not relishing the prospect of wandering about aimlessly trying to find all the things he needed. A quick search of his wardrobe after he arrived home from The George had confirmed what he had already known to be true: he didn't own anything that he would be happy trying to impress Ruth in. It seemed the only pair of shorts that he actually owned were the ones he had bought for the annual physical and there was no way he would be wearing those again - they had chafed like hell. In fact, he had no idea why he had even kept them. He had also realised that the last time he had been swimming was 1995, and that a small pair of red Speedos were probably not in fashion anymore - if, indeed, the ever were.

Forty five minutes later, and he was doing well. He had already been to Sunglasses Hut and given up trying to choose a pair of sunglasses, and had then headed to Boots and managed to find both his sunglasses and sun cream in one deft shopping manoeuvre. He was now on the escalator between the second and first floor of Debenhams, having already been all the way up, back down and up again in search of male swimwear. He was softly cursing to himself when he noticed the reflection of a familiar brunette in the mirrored wall beside him. Turning to face the other side, he let out a surprised "Ruth!" before he could check himself.

"Har-Harry? Harry! Er, hi," she managed to splutter as their escalators dragged them in different directions. She moved down a step, accidentally clobbering an old lady with her Clarks bag of sandals, as Harry tried to climb a few. They kept walking against the flow of their respective escalators, much to the annoyance of others as they held their gaze and continued to talk.

"I had to get some things for the trip," he explained, gesturing to the store at large with a nod of his head.

"Oh, me too," she laughed, nervously. "Any luck?"

If she didn't know better, she could have sworn he blushed. "I can't find the department I want, actually."

"Oh, I know Debenhams pretty well. I could help you, you know, if you'd like me to. What are you after?"

Harry blanched - the first time Ruth had ever seen him do so - and mumbled something as a man pushed past him, blocking his continued ascent against the flow of the machine.

"What?" Ruth asked, "I didn't catch that."

Harry was now several steps away and in Ruth's panic to shout back, she too was drifting away.

Standing at the top of the escalator, she debated what to do. She could see him standing there, his eyes flitting upwards to her occasionally, but he looked restless, as if he was anxious just to leave. Stealing herself, she stepped onto the down escalator, and headed towards him.

As he watched her, a sick feeling entered his stomach. In truth, he had been relieved when the man had broken his concentration on climbing the moving staircase, but an attack of guilt had refused to let him just run away from Ruth, no mater how embarrassing the situation. Now, he was just trying desperately - and failing - to think up an alternative item he might need to buy.

Hi." Her breathless, nervy greeting caught his attention and he realised that she was stood just in front of him.

"Er, hello." Awkwardness seemed to radiate off him in waves and she was truly intrigued as to what he could possibly need to buy that might put him in this state. It took her less than a minute to discount the idea that he'd be buying underwear but it was the only thing that she could think of that would make him so shy and embarrassed. Unless...

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_**If you ever want to find out, you'll have to review **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Forgive us Father for we have FLANned, it has been merely 2 days since we last uploaded!**_

_**Here is your swimwear chapter - we couldn't keep you in suspense any longer.  
**_

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"Swimwear?" Had he not been so distressed at being in this situation in the first place, Harry would probably have laughed at the way she leant forward, checked to see no-one was listening in before whispering it softly into his ear as if it was an obscene word. She knew she was right from the way he stuffed a hand into his pockets and tried to look anywhere but at her. Realising that standing at the bottom of the escalators was not going to help either of them get everything they needed, she thought about Adam's advice, found a bit of courage that she didn't know she had, and dragged him back onto the escalators.

"Ruth, I don't, you don't,"

"Third floor," she interrupted, sounding just as nervous as he did. They left the escalator and headed to the next. "Opposite wall to the ladies swimwear. Might be a sale on; there was in the ladies."

Harry was still quietly processing the last ten minutes in his head, when his eyes suddenly snapped up at the new realisation he'd just had come to. "You've bought new swimwear?"

Ruth blushed, although at Harry's suppressed smile or her own outstanding ability to drop herself in it, she didn't know. "I didn't say that. I might have just noticed the sale banners."

"Or, you might have bought something from said sale." His own embarrassment was quickly dissipating as he found enjoyment in making her squirm and blush, all the time dazzling him with her coy smile and letting her gaze flit briefly to his. "Let's have a look, shall we?"

"No! Harry!" she protested in a voice which held half mortification and half the teasing lilt which dared him to anyway.

"If there's no swimwear in there, then there is no reason to protest, is there? I rest my case," he stated, reaching for her hand and trying to gently unfurl the fingers which had tightened around the handles of her bags.

They stepped off the escalator in unison, and three bags went cascading to the floor as both realised the other was not holding the handles, but the other's hand instead. Whether or not Harry would have succeeded in his quest to acquire the bags, or not, was now irrelevant, as most of the contents, including a striking sea green halter bikini and a black plunging swimsuit which appeared to cut away across the hips.

"Ah-ha," he commented, flirtatiously, before realising he was holding the bikini briefs, and dropping them back into the pile of clothes. She looked at him as if he might have gone slightly mad, and he bent down to help her frantic stuffing of things into the carriers.

"Shall we just get what it is you need and go home?" she suggested, immediately cringing and back tracking. "I mean, you go home, and I'll go home. Not _we'll_ go home."

She let him lead the way now that he could see where he was headed, and followed a few steps behind, banging the heel of her palm against her forehead.

"What about these ones?" he asked, holding up a pair of Bermudas.

"Are you a surfer?"

"No."

"Are you a middle aged pimp or gangster?"

"No."

"Are you having a midlife crisis?"

"Debatable," he muttered.

"Then no, definitely not those ones."

Harry didn't know quite what to say, but after half an hour, he knew he was beginning to try Ruth's patience. He wished she'd just pick a pair and suggest them, but she was plainly feeling too awkward to do so, and he was feeling too shy to suggest it to her.

"Ruth, I'm not getting anywhere. You said the Speedos were a no-no, you wouldn't let me get these, these, those or those," he said pointing. "I'm running out of options."

She stood still for a moment, and then strode over to the far corner, returning with two things in hand. "These, or these," she stated, handing him a pair of plain deep red shorts, and – more to feed her own imagination than anything – a pair of tight, blue shorts, not unlike those belonging to a certain other tasty spy of late.

"Ok then, which?"

"Er," she blushed, restraining herself from her gut answer.

"What?"

"You'll have to try them on."

"Ruth?"

"Harry, we've been here half an hour trying to find you some and now that we've done it, you can't just refuse to try on the only candidates. There really isn't any other way to tell what looks best on you."

With that, he grabbed them from her, and sulked off to change.

---

"What do you think then?" she called from outside.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I like both."

"Well get both."

"I don't need two pairs."

Ruth rolled her eyes. Trust men to see things practically. She didn't _need_ a bikini and a swimming costume, but that hadn't stopped her.

"Well let me look then."

"Ruth!?" Harry's voice, it seemed, could stretch several octaves when given the right prompt.

"Well choose yourself then."

"I can't."

"Fine, I'm coming in, just open the door a crack, and no-one else will see."

"No."

"Harry, unless you either choose or open the door in the next ten seconds, I'm grabbing a stool from the next cubicle and peering over the top…and you can be the one to come and explain to security why."

Ruth began her countdown loudly, much to his annoyance, but he declined to move, refusing to believe she would carry out her threat.

"…two, one."

There was the sound of scraping wood on tiles and a mortified expression attached itself to Harry's face as he realised what was happening.

"I've decided, I've decided, it's ok," he shouted, turning himself through 720 degrees in his flustered state.

"You picked that pair, I hope," came the small and flustered voice from a head which was now disappearing behind the cubicle wall.

"You, er, you like them?" he asked.

"Shit!" he heard her whisper. "I shouldn't have said anything. The, er, the colour is good on you though."

She sank onto the stool and pushed the cubicle door closed, wishing that somehow it's walls might close in on her and leave her to her humiliation. Head in her palms, however, she found it hard to focus on what an idiot she'd made of herself, when all she could see, burned into her retina, was the image of him in the shorts. The blue was subtle and yet striking all at once, the dark navy piping sitting wonderfully against his cream skin. She pictured the way the bottom of the shorts sat high and snug against his upper thighs, and the striped sides caressed their broadness. And then – Oh God, then – she allowed herself to picture how well he filled them, finding herself clammy and shaking at the recollection of his form teasing her from within the confines of the cotton-lycra.

Still stunned from her appearance over the top of the door, Harry kept a wary eye on the top of the cubicle as he began to change back into his own clothes. He decided that partial nudity in front of Ruth was more than enough for today. As it was, she had been eerily silent since her cameo in his changing room and he desperately hoped that it was a good silence, not a horrified _oh-my-God-his-body-is-repulsive_ sort of silence. Dark thoughts getting the better of him, it was a very self conscious Harry that walked out of the cubicle, and, on not seeing Ruth waiting outside, his initial thought was that she has fled in horror. He turned as the door to the cubicle next to his opened and was relieved to see Ruth step out looking incredibly pink. He noticed the way her gaze kept drifting from the shorts in his hand down the length of his body and back up again.

"I, er, I decided on the blue ones."

"Good choice," she managed to squeak and he smiled widely, enjoying the fact that although she was incredibly flustered she didn't seem able to tear her eyes from his now fully clothed body.

They stood a few feet apart, gazing intently at one another as a thick tension settled between them. Harry took a small step closer to her and her breath caught. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, she tried to swallow but her throat had gone suddenly dry, she was rooted to the spot, clutching on to the carrier bags in her hands for dear life as he took another step, narrowing the distance between them to mere inches. She opened her mouth as if to say something but no sound came out, and trembled as he reached out with his free hand. She was sure he was about to stroke her cheek when someone cleared their throat loudly and broke the spell.

"Sorry, could I just squeeze through?"

"Of course, yes. Sorry." Harry wasn't sure who was most embarrassed, him, Ruth or the small, overweight, bespectacled man that was trying to get into the changing rooms to try on what appeared to be a leopard print pair of Speedos.

They made a sharp exit from the changing area, joining the queue of shoppers waiting to pay for their goods and burst into nervous giggles.

"Well, shopping with you has certainly been an experience, Ruth."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment Harry."

"You should. You're help has been invaluable, I could have ended up like that poor sod if left to my own devices!"

"I can't imagine you in leopard skin anything Harry, never mind leopard print Speedos!" She paused, uncomfortably. "Not that I, um, imagine you in different c-clothing or, or without any, um... well..."

Mortified at her rambling, she trailed off and stared resolutely at the floor. Her gaze was so intent that Harry wondered, briefly, if she was looking for a place in the floor for the Earth to open up and swallow her.

"It occurs to me, Ruth, that you wouldn't have to imagine anymore...not after the last half hour anyway. I, on the other hand, would indeed have to use my imagination to see how you might look in, say, a sea green bikini..."

That had certainly got her attention. His deceptively casual tones belied the look of interest mixed with a hit of mischief that danced in his eyes. She could not believe he had said that. To her. Right here. In the queue for the checkout at Debenhams. Where anyone could be listening to them. She took heart from the fact that no-one seemed to be paying them or their flirtatious banter the slightest bit of attention. She could sense him watching her, waiting for her to say something and for once she decided to forget that they were employer and employee.

"Not at all Harry...you don't have to use your imagination for that..." she leant in close to him, squeezed his bicep gently and looked at him from beneath her long lashes.

"I don't?" he managed to choke out, mesmerised by the way she was looking at him.

"No." Her voice lowered to a seductive purr. "You'll see me in it next week."

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_**And this time, if you want Harry to see Ruth in her bikini, you really will have to review - we haven't written that bit yet! **_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Last pea gift before the Pea-Pod-Twins go on their respective holidays! **_

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The week had seemed to pass agonisingly slowly for both, not least for Harry, whose minutes seemed to be measured out in imaginings of Ruth, golden brown and in mere inches of glistening, sea-soaked material. However, it was finally drawing into the last minutes of the working day, and it would be just hours before they boarded their plane to Mexico.

"All packed?" she asked, softly, sliding open the door to his office. She passed him the files he'd requested and lingered at the side of his desk.

"Huh? Yes, sorry, I was reading. Yes, I'm all packed." There was a slight pause where he drew a deeper breath than usual. "Would you like a lift to the airport?"

"No, don't be daft, I'll get the tube."

"Now who's being daft, you can't lug your suitcase all the way around the underground. Stop being stubborn, I'll pick you up at 6.30." She didn't have time to protest before he told her she was free to go home and that he'd see her soon.

Sure enough, he was punctual as ever, and at twenty nine minutes past the hour, Ruth heard the doorbell ring, and swallowed hard against her dry tongue.

"Hi," she muttered, pulling open the door.

"Hi, you look, you look," there really weren't enough words to describe how she looked. It was as if she was a completely different Ruth, and he liked it. Clad in pale linen trousers and a tight, purple wrap top, her hair pulled into a chick but messy ponytail, she looked effortlessly stylish and comfortable. The perfect traveller. The perfect travelling companion.

A dusting of pink covered her cheeks at his implied compliment, she wanted to return the sentiment noticing how good he looked in his chinos and light blue shirt that was open at the neck, but offered him a shy smile instead.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded and, realising he was still stood on the doorstep, stepped back into the hallway and allowed him to enter.

"I just need to get my handbag." She pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

"Ok, well, I'll put your case in the car and let you lock up then."

"Oh, you don't have to..." she trailed off as she noted the look he was giving her. "Actually, it is heavy, thank you."

He reached down for the large black canvas suitcase, noting as he did the red strap clipped to the outside of the suitcase with her name on it. It was indeed heavy but, conscious of her eyes following his every movement, Harry was determined not to show that it was something of an effort to move it. What the hell she had packed in it to make it this heavy, he did not know, but previous experience with the fairer sex had taught him not to ask. It would only lead to an in-depth discussion about co-ordinating outfits and needing a pair of shoes for every possible occasion.

He waited at the car whilst she messed around with what appeared to be a burglar alarm, laughing as she set it off by mistake. Through the open door, he could see her hastily pressing buttons to try and switch the loud ringing noise off. After what appeared to be the third attempt at the right combination of buttons, the alarm stopped, she quickly reset it and then hurried out.

"New alarm?!" he asked, amused, as she reached the car.

He opened the car door for her and gestured her to get in. "Had to try and do something to stop everyone breaking in to my house, my little piece of paper wedged in the door didn't seem to be much of a deterrent."

He chuckled softly, and helped her into the car, holding the door open for her and closing it behind. Walking around to the other side, he seated himself across from her and the driver pulled away.

The journey seemed to be conducted largely in silence, each sneaking furtive glances towards the other, either watching their hands or face for some betrayal of what they were thinking. At one point, Ruth swore he was looking in such a way that her breathing stopped and wondered if he was aware of the effect he was having on her. In truth, he was thinking much the same thing, watching how the soft wisps of hair fell about her face and blushing at the way her eyes met his as his gaze flickered down to where her hand rested between them, wondering if he should take it.

"Nearly there sir, which terminal?" came a voice from the front, and as the partition rolled down, their barriers came up.

Inside the terminal building, Ruth and Harry we both relieved and disappointed to find their colleagues and friends eagerly awaiting them.

"Come on," huffed Ros, lugging an oversized jet black case behind her, "check-in closes in twenty. It's about time."

Behind her, as she waltzed towards the ever diminishing queue of people, was Malcolm, scurrying quickly with his suitcase and what looked to be a matching piece of luggage to that Ros already held.

"Whipped," Zaf muttered to Adam.

They watched as he caught up to her and tugged exhaustedly at the tie he still wore, despite the informality of the occasion.

A further icy glare from Ros as she and Malcolm reached the check in desk, had the others springing into action. Adam picked up his large holdall from the floor and strode across the tiled floor towards where Ros and Malcolm now stood engaged in what seemed to be a fairly heated discussion about ties and whether they were indeed required for the flight or not.

It appeared that Malcolm had given in, in the end as Adam saw him reach up and reluctantly start to remove it.

Jo nudged Adam as she stood along side him, whispering that it was rude to stare. He grinned at her and turned to see where everyone else was. Zaf was struggling to make his way to where they were stood as he was trying to drag his own suitcase and what was undoubtedly Jo's luggage, a bright pink plastic suitcase with a purple handle and a matching holdall.

"Not a word," he growled at Adam when he finally joined them, noticing the blonde man's barely suppressed amusement.

"What was that about being whipped mate?!

Adams bark of laughter as Zaf mouthed expletives at him made Jo jump slightly. However, it was the couple that had been left behind that held her attention.

She watched them, gaze soft and smiling, for a moment, enjoying seeing the Zaf and her of old in their mannerisms and awkwardness, and wishing that they could figure it out too, just as she and her soon-to-be-husband had done.

Bundled together in the queue, Zaf and Jo were called forward to check-in with the petite redhead at the same moment that the plum brunette called Harry towards her desk, leaving only Ruth yet to check her bags in.

"We have two first class seats available Mr Pearce, so I can upgrade you if you wish, at no extra cost."

Harry nodded, gratefully, hoping the other would be extended to Ruth as the next inm the queue, and placed his luggage onto the conveyer belt, moving to one side to do so and picking up the remnants of the conversation between Zaf and the redheaded airline employee.

"…let me just see if we have any first class upgrades, seeing as this is quite the special occasion," she trilled, pleasantly. "Oh, I am sorry, it seems there is only one left, you'll have to take the seats you booked."

"You can have mine," a honey but roughened voice interrupted. "I don't need it, you should both get first class."

The woman checking Harry in looked at him with a puzzled but soft expression. Ok Sir, we'll seat you in economy as per your original booking. Do you have any preference? The seating arrangement is 2-4-2."

"Window please, if not aisle."

"Window is fine, Sir. Here is your boarding card, you'll be in 36A."

Harry gathered his hand luggage, passport and ticket and moved over to one side where all bar one of the party now stood, and Ruth stepped into his previous place.

"And for you madam," the woman began to ask as she checked over Ruth's details, "you are travelling with the same party?" Ruth nodded. "I can offer you a seat next to the gentleman traveller if you wish."

Ruth blushed violently. Too eager a 'yes', and she would never live this down, but a 'no' would seem brusque and rude. She nodded, sheepishly, hoping none of them could here what was happening anyway.

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	6. Chapter 6

_**More bonkers pea fic! **_

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Not one to usually enjoy the prospect of travelling on a full plane in economy class, Harry tried to look as grim as some of his other travelling companions as they boarded the plane. Finding his seat and noticing, as Ruth slipped into the seat beside him, that they had been separated from the others, he couldn't help but smile a little. Not only did he have hours to sit and talk to Ruth, but he had also been afforded the luxury of privacy from the prying eyes of his officers. His attention was caught by excessive movement on his left hand side, where it seemed that Ruth was trying to empty the entire contents of her hand luggage into the small seat pocket in front of her. So far, stuffed in and amongst the air sickness bags and in flight magazines was a well worn paperback, a tin of hard boiled travel sweets and a guide book to Mexico. Having apparently decided that she had enough things to be suitably entertained for the duration of the flight, he watched her stand and juggle her bag in one hand as she opened the overhead compartment with her other, before beginning to stuff her bag into the already crowded locker. Flustered and apologising profusely to the man sat in the seat in front of her, whose head her hair brush and compact had landed on moments before, she finally managed to stow the bag properly.

"Will you be injuring any more of our fellow passengers, Ruth, or are you quite done for now?!"

A steady blush rose in her cheeks at his teasing words and the best she could manage was to mumble that it had been an accident as she fiddled with the strap on her seatbelt. The sound of the Captain welcoming them aboard the flight stilled any further conversation as Harry fastened his own seatbelt and listened half interestedly to what was being said. It was only as the plane started to taxi down the runway and Harry averted his eyes from the in-flight safety video that he noticed Ruth's posture. From the way her eyes were closed, the rhythmic clenching of her jaw and the vice like grip she appeared to have on the armrests it didn't take a genius to figure out that she wasn't exactly relaxed with the idea of flying. As the engines roared and the large plane sped along the concrete, Harry slowly slipped his left hand over her right one, gently prising her fingers from the arm rest until he was able to twist his hand enough to allow his fingers to cover hers. His thumb traced a pattern known only to itself over the back of her hand, her startled grey eyes met his warm brown ones and he leant in closer to her and whispered softly in here ear.

"There's more to be afraid of from the in-flight meal than the actual act of flying."

"It's more the crashing I'm worried about."

"Ah well, I can't fault your logic I suppose but there's nothing to worry about, I promise you that Ruth."

Despite her fear, she felt herself beginning to relax at his touch and his proximity to her, she didn't know what it was about this man but he managed to make her feel entirely safe whatever the circumstances. When the seat belt signs were switched off, Harry reluctantly let go of her hand and the flash of disappointment on her face was gone so quickly that he wasn't sure if he had imagined it or not.

By about two hours into the flight, Ruth found she had warmed considerably into the whole idea of flying, especially when it meant almost half a day in such close proximity to Harry that their arms kept brushing. The fact that he kept shooting her concerned glances and was trying to keep her engaged in conversation as a distractionary technique was no disappointment either. He was right, too. It had been so long since she had flown that she had forgotten quite what to expect from the in-flight meal. After a mush of soft carrots and watery mash, slopped along side a mystery hunk of meat she guessed could have been pork, all in a tray she had burnt her hand trying to open, she found herself wishing that her overfilled hand luggage now contained a little more food.

Unlatching her loosened seatbelt, she stood to retrieve her bag – carefully this time – to rummage through its contents in the hope of finding something more appetising that what she had just eaten. With a victorious cry, and a confused look from many fellow passengers, she pulled free a bag of Kettle Chips and returned to her seat.

"Still hungry?" he asked, tilting his head to regard her with an amused smile.

She blushed and fumbled trying to open the over inflated packet.

"The air pressure," she gabbled. "Makes the packets swell." He continued to watch her. "And you were right, not exactly appealing was it?" she asked gesturing to the stowed seat tray to indicate the meal which had just been cleared away. "Want one?"

She finally prised apart the pack with such gusto in her determination to have anything that might stop her rabbiting, that a large crisp quite comically leapt from the pack into Harry's lap at her words.

"Er, thanks," he replied, retrieving it from his thigh and brushing off the crumbs.

"Help yourself." She pulled the pack wider open and held it between them as if sharing popcorn at the cinema.

Reaching for the packet moments later, she felt her hand meet something warm and soft, and looked down to find her own hand on the back of his. She pulled it back a little, but her fingertips still rested there, and her thumb moved around his wrist a little way.

"Sorry," they both mumbled.

"I, er, carry on," she stuttered, shaking her head.

He looked at her, pointedly, and smiled widely before leaning closer and her heart seemed to jump into her throat as she tried to keep focus on what he was doing. She was convinced, for a split second, that he might kiss her, but as her eyes half closed, she felt his breath on her ear, and a whispering voice.

"You need to move your hand from around mine then, Ruth," he breathed, with a laugh behind it.

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	7. Chapter 7

Another half an hour passed, this time in almost silence, as Ruth meditated on her embarrassment at having held his hand and then having the nerve in herself to think he might kiss her. 

"I, er," Ruth looked up at the beginnings of his sentenced and realised he was looking at her almost nervously. "Can I squeeze past?" She returned his look, and something in her eyes told him she thought he was going to try and flee her company or something equally ridiculous. "Little boys' room," he said, pointedly.

"Ah," she blushed at her own stupidity. "Of course." She let him pass and then settled back down with her guidebook.

It wasn't until, well, she wasn't sure exactly how much later, when the seatbelt signs pinged on during a small patch of turbulence and she realised she had read two chapters of the book, that she began to wonder where Harry had got to. Cautiously, and waiting until the nearest flight attendants has walked past with their backs to her, she unlatched her seatbelt and hoisted herself upwards to peer across the cabin. In front and to the left she could see the top of Adam's head, his arm lolling outside of the arm rest and into the aisle. No, Harry wasn't talking to him then. Next to him, across the aisle and several seats directly in front of Ruth, she could see the mousey, greying hair of Malcolm, and to his right, a small crest of blonder hair, which appeared to be resting against him. Not there either, she thought, smiling to herself at the image of Ros snuggled up next to Malcolm and the look on Malcolm's face right now. She could tell, even from this distance behind him, that his posture was rigid, as if he didn't dare move for disturbing her.

Steeling herself to overcome both her common sense, fierce ability for rule abiding, and fear of flying even whilst securely seated, let alone roaming the plane, she again checked for the air hostesses, and made her way backwards towards the toilets Harry had headed for.

Trapped in the claustrophobically small toilet, Harry, normally unflappable in any circumstances, was now beginning to panic. Having used the facilities quite some minutes ago, he was now in the uncomfortable predicament of having got the zip of his fly stuck in the material of his trousers, only half way closed. No amount of tugging and pulling seemed to want to free it either. In an attempt to attack it from a different angle, he had tried, without success, to pull them off and have another go, but instead the chinos were now wedged firmly on his hips, neither moving up or down.

He was just beginning to wonder how long he'd been in here and how long before someone noticed he was missing, when he heard a small voice outside.

"Harry?"

"In here."

"Are you ok? Was it the pork? _Was_ it pork?"

Harry closed his eyes briefly, almost as if he was in pain, before opening them again slowly and forcing himself to apprise her of the situation. He felt utterly ridiculous as he explained everything through the closed door.

"Well, you'd better open the door and let me help, otherwise I'll get spotted loitering out here and we'll both be for it."

She couldn't make out his mutterings but from the look of mortification on his face as the door opened to admit her, she could guess that most of the words uttered had been expletives. They shuffled around in the small cubicle as he closed the door behind her, only to realise that it was never going to shut firmly with them both wedged in there. Not unless they moved a _lot_ closer and he banished that thought from his head the second it entered. Thoughts like that would definitely only land him in a more awkward position.

He had been so intent on not thinking any improper thoughts that he had failed to register what Ruth had been saying, although she certainly had his full attention as she reached out and tugged at the waistband of his trousers.

"I think if I pull them away from your waist, you might be able to wiggle out of them."

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?!" she asked, slightly annoyed that he wasn't being compliant. "Do you want to be stuck in here for the rest of the flight? Or perhaps you'd prefer to travel all the way to Mexico with your trousers in that oh-so-comfortable position?"

His glare softened slightly as he reasoned that she did have a point, but, determined not to make this any more embarrassing than it already was, he vowed to keep his trousers on…much to Ruth's dissatisfaction. Before he could utter any further protests or claims of self-preservation, she had dropped to the floor, kneeling in front of him and trying to figure out the best way of solving the problem without touching anything she wasn't supposed to be touching.

Her hands trembled as she reached out towards his zip and she did her best to keep her voice steady as she spoke.

"Well I'm not sure this position is any less embarrassing, Harry."

That was something he could not argue with. He swallowed hard as she gripped the zip with one hand and fumbled with the material that it was caught on with the other. His eyes had closed again and he was concentrating all his efforts on not allowing his body to react to her proximity. He was halfway through reciting a memo from Debra Langham, which had been entitled 'Seven steps to a stress free you', when she let out a triumphant cry and he felt the zip being lowered. He was just about to thank her for her efforts when the toilet door pulled back to reveal a very un-amused looking air hostess.

"I…er…shit. It's not…" Ruth hurried to her feet as best she could manage and trailed off, all but disappearing behind flushed cheeks. "Harry?"

"My zip was stuck."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes."

"Well, I've never heard that before."

Harry looked at the hostess with something close to venom. "I suppose you also get 'don't you know who I am?' quite a lot, too? Well let me tell you, you don't know who I am, and you wouldn't want to. I work for the British Security Services and I can find out where you live, what you do in your free time, even who you do in your free time, so I suggest we keep this between us. Do you understand?"

The woman looked offended and liable to flee to the cockpit and have him restrained.

"Ask the Captain. Ex army colleague of mine, I believe."

She gulped, and he could see she was weighing up the merits of asking the pilot or just keeping quiet. "Don't leave your seats again."

Ruth let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding and let Harry pass, following him down the aisle. He walked with an awkward gait, and she realised he was possibly in some discomfort still.

"That was a little threatening, Harry," she muttered, as they sat, nonetheless aware that he had saved them a great deal of embarrassment.

"Fine. Next time she walks past I'll tell her you followed me to the toilet and propositioned me. Happy?" His words were harsh and cutting, delivered in a low whisper. She knew he was just smarting from the humiliation and projecting it as anger, but it still hurt.

"Well maybe next time I won't bloody offer to help you." Her head quirked sideways and her eyes were wide.

"I didn't ask you to," he hissed.

"Read your book, Harry. I can't talk to you when you're like this."

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_**Dun, dun, dun...**_

_**Want to know what happens after the argument? Do you? You'll have to review and ask us nicely then:P **_


	8. Chapter 8

After staring out of the window, moodily, for the best part of three quarters of an hour, Harry was considerably calmer. The glass of whisky he now nursed in his hand was helping to restore him to his former congenial self and he chanced another furtive glance at Ruth.

He rolled his eyes as she caught him and was somewhat obvious about further engrossing herself in the guidebook. This was the second time she had avoided looking at him, which he decided was adorable if not extremely annoying. Clearly, she was still hurt by his earlier comments and wasn't going to let him off with smile.

"Ruth." She ignored him. "Ruth...I know you can hear me..."

"I'm reading." She gave herself bonus points for not giving in and looking at him.

"So I see. I just want to talk to you." When he still didn't get any response he took matters literally into his own hands and stole her book, telling her she could have it back when he was finish.

This time, she did look up. Her face was expectant and impatient as she held out a flat palm under where he held the book. "Give it me back, Harry."

"Not until you talk to me."

"What do you call this?"

"Properly."

"And why should I do that when all you do is insult me?"

"Fine, don't talk to me. Just listen…" She continued to look at him, and so he continued. "I'm sorry."

"For what? Loosing your cool or being an ungrateful sod?"

"Both. Genuinely. I'm sorry I overdid it with the air hostess, I'm sorry I lost my cool and I'm sorry I upset you. Anything else?" he asked, puppy eyed as he watched her expression begin to soften.

"Yes. Can I have my book back now?"

"What's the magic word?"

"Can I have my book back now, Harry, _please_." She stretched the final word out and shook her head at him for good measure.

He dropped it into her waiting hands, and watched as she settled back down with it. "Thank you."

"Pleasure," he whispered, right against her ear lobe. "You're quite sexy when you get wound up."

She couldn't help the small gasp which she felt escape, and hoped that it wasn't as loud as it had sounded in her head. Her whole body seemed to tingle and flutter and yet she couldn't quite bring herself to remove her eyes from the page in front, staring intently at it as she chewed down a smile. Not fooled for a second, Harry settled back into his seat with a satisfied smirk across his face, he closed his eyes and replayed the moment in his head.

---

Inadvertently, he had drifted off to sleep, waking only as he felt something move against him. Opening his eyes, he saw that Ruth was nestled against his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his upper arm as her hair fell across her face. He badly wanted to reach out and sweep the hair behind her ear so he could look at her but he didn't want to wake her. It would be an interesting enough moment when she woke up to find herself using him as a pillow, without the added complications of getting caught touching her hair. Instead, he closed his eyes and happily dozed as she slept contentedly.

The change in her breathing was the first indication that she was waking up. Not wanting to miss a chance to watch her, Harry turned his head and gazed softly at her. She really was exquisite, he decided. What he would give to be able to see her this way everyday.

Ruth took a few moments to clear the sleep fog from her brain, it took her a while to realise that she was snuggled up to Harry's arm.

"We'll be landing soon," he murmured from above her. He smiled as she sat up and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Thanks for the, uh, arm, Harry. I hadn't realised I was so tired."

He smiled at her. "So long as you didn't drool on me..." he laughed, as her horrified eyes darted immediately to his shoulder.

Relieved to find a remarkably dry patch of material, she allowed herself to exhale calmly and try and compose herself in light of the fact that she had slept on him. She was just about to speak again when a pain seemed to stab laterally though her head and she felt her face wince involuntarily as the pressure in her ears made an uncomfortable shift. His hand had clasped hers before either he or she was aware of it having happened and, after a moment's startled silence and slightly abashed looks, they both allowed themselves to settle into the contact between them.

She gripped him firmly, and he held her reassuringly tightly in response, allowing his thumb to caress the porcelain skin every time he felt her fingers flex and tighten as her ear popped again and the descent increased.

"There's the peninsular," he announced, softly but loud enough to make himself heard, as they banked right.

She screwed her eyes a little more tightly shut than they had been and took a deep breath. "I've never been, er, very comfortable staring down out of the window," she admitted, opening her lids a fraction and squinting at him, as if she might inadvertently catch sight of the sea below in doing so.

"It's ok, Ruth, honestly. Safest form of transport and all that. Look, I've got you, the plane's steady, and that," he watched as she began to squint less and cautiously – exceedingly cautiously – peered towards the window, "is the Yucatán Peninsular by sunset."

He held her hand and pointed things out to her as they came in to land, distracting her with his deceptively soft skin and a hypnotic circling of his thumb on her flesh. She was unable to stop her eyes screwing shut as the ground appeared to rush towards them, however, they snapped open again as she felt the unmistakeable feel of lips caressing the back of her hand.

The slight judder of the plane alerted her that they had landed but she was unable to tear her gaze from the man sat next to her. He winked at her before brushing his lips against her hand once more.

Despite her complete fear of flying, she had to admit that this was possibly the most romantic moment of her life to date. His hand felt strong and warm next to hers and, for the first time ever, she didn't want the flight to end.

"Safe and sound, just like I promised."

Aware that she must look like she was impersonating a fish, she tried, unsuccessfully, to think of something intelligent to say.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Enjoy x  
**_

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Despite the picture perfect scene which had been their landing, the ensuing hours had been pure torture. There was nothing wrong with them per-se; baggage claim had been quick and efficient, customs a breeze and the transfers on time. However, whatever new and, as ever, unspoken, change had passed between them, was fast becoming pushed aside as always under the pressure of scrutiny and constant company of their travelling companions. Just like in the office, their tiny moments were being swept under the carpet for the sake of maintaining the status quo and an outwards air of professionalism and vague indifference to the blindingly obvious between them. 

From the moment they disembarked, they had been forced to leave the cocoon of their semi-private world and bump back to reality with unwelcome force. Even now, assembled in the bar for late night drinks, there was no escaping the eyes and even the conversations of their friends. It was made all the more difficult by the fact that the various family of the wedding families had also arrived and so everyone was hyper aware of who they were _supposed_ to be, whilst trying to take in the new faces.

After initial drinks in the bar, the group decided to go their separate ways. It was quite clear from Zaf and Jo's unsubtle yawns that they were eager to test out the facilities in their suite; they made a run for it as soon as a blushing Jo had made their excuses.

Meanwhile, Adam was charming Zaf's oldest sister and seemed quite oblivious to the fact that the happy couple were leaving. Malcolm and Ros had seized the opportunity to sidle off to a small table and looked rather cosy in one another's company, leaving Ruth and Harry looking shyly at each other. Not knowing what to say to him, Ruth concentrated on the drink in her hand, only realising after staring at it intently for almost two full minutes that it was empty.

"-Would you..."

"-I think I'll call it a night, Harry."

They had both started speaking at the same time and Ruth was sure that he had been about to ask her is she'd like another drink. She cursed herself mentally and wished that she'd never opened her mouth.

"That's probably a good idea; I think I'll join you."

"Oh, er…" she shut her mouth before she said something stupid.

"Oh," he replied. They both seemed to be sensing that neither party _really_ wanted to go – each had only wanted to avoid an even longer silence…but, now, said silence was broken and yet neither of them could suggest a retraction of the suggestion of calling it a night.

"I, er, I'll probably just order a bit of room service before I turn in," she muttered, beginning to walk away, head bowed in awkwardness.

"Mind if I join you? Er, not that I make a habit of inviting myself into people's hotel rooms. Just hungry...never eat alone and all that…not when there's such good company to be found."

She turned to look at him, not entirely certain how to accept without sounding too eager. The look on his face was adorable a mixture of feigned casualness tinged with hope and she was unable to resist.

"That, er, that would be nice Harry. I'd love to have you in my room." Her eyes widened momentarily and she rushed on. "For dinner."

Ruth tried valiantly to fight the blush that was threatening to overwhelm her but was unable to stop a light staining of pink stretching across her cheeks. Harry gallantly decided to ignore her fumbled words, instead placing a large, warm hand on her lower back and guiding her out of the bar and towards their rooms.

---

When the group had been allotted their hotel rooms, Harry and Ruth had both been secretly pleased if not slightly frustrated that their rooms were next door to one another, and they now stood in the corridor between the two, unsure which they should used. She'd asked. He was the gentlemen. He was saved from asking by her jabbering and fumbling for her room card.

"Let me just grab my glasses," he mumbled, "two ticks."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"I don't wear them a lot. Only when my eyes are tired. Stops me getting headaches."

He disappeared for a few seconds, and came out bespectacled and, she thought, really rather sexy.

"Come in," she said, with more than a slight tremor in her voice.

He obliged and stepped inside, noting the champagne in an ice bucket to one side.

"Champagne?"

"Huh?"

"On the side. I haven't had one."

"Is there? Oh! That wasn't here when I brought my bags up. I, did, er…" she was trying to search his face for any vain hope that he might have sent it, but he was looking far too miffed at it for that to be the case.

"Leon," he grumbled.

"Excuse me."

"He sometimes takes a shine to the pretty guests."

"The, er," she blushed furiously at the transparent compliment and failed to finished her sentence.

"He really should be ashamed, he doesn't even know you. Quite a bloody cheek if you ask me."

He was aware after finishing his grumble that Ruth was looking at him strangely and it took him a moment or two to process exactly what he had said. He wasn't certain whether it was his comment that she was pretty or his slightly jealous mutterings that had rendered her speechless. Silently, he mused that perhaps it was both. Unsure what to say to say to redeem the situation without recanting his compliment, he settled instead for a quick and seemingly vague apology followed by a suggestion that they order the food.

Happy to have an excuse to do something, Ruth latched on to the idea of ordering the food and set about trying to find the menu. She registered the faint pop of the champagne being opened and tried not to give into the impulse to suggest they share it out on the balcony. However, when she turned around, menu finally in hand, he was leaning over the railing, looking out to the moonlit water.

He handed her a glass, which sparkled in the florescent light above the patio doors, and she took it gratefully, eager for a prop piece to hide herself behind. "I'm having the chicken and bacon club," she announced, rapidly. "You?"

"I don't know, Ruth. You're still holding the menu."

"O-oh." She thrust it at him forcefully, and proceeded to reel off a list of suggestions as he read.

"I think I'll have steak," he decided, wearily.

"Good, good c-choice. I'll call them." She took the menu out of his hands and swept inside as he stood there, a little shell shocked, watching as she dialled, spoke, and then remained seated on the edge of the double bed for several minutes.

"Ruth? Are you coming back outside?"

It was obvious when she didn't answer or move that she hadn't heard him. Putting his drink down, he wandered over to the patio doors, teetering for what seemed like an age on the boundary between the balcony and the room. He had a fleeting innocent thought of joining her on the bed which was quickly followed by a succession of impure thoughts of what he would like to do if he joined her on the plush and spacious mattress.

"Are you joining me again or should I drink the champagne all by myself?"

She jumped slightly at the sound of his voice and wondered briefly how long he had been stood there watching her, before getting up and making her way back out onto the balcony.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's impolite to invite a man for dinner and then leave him all alone?!" he teased trying to recapture some of their flirtatious banter from earlier in the day.

She swilled the champagne around her mouth, enjoying the way the bubbles crackled and popped against her tongue, as she shot him a look. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to invite yourself to a girl's room and then drink all her champagne?"

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	10. Chapter 10

**_Carries straight on from the last chapter... _**

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"Touché," he whispered, with a wink of his left eye.

"Naturellement," she laughed, pulling the flute from his hand and finishing both their drinks with flair.

"What was that for?"

"I was rectifying the situation."

"Golden rule of Spycraft; stay one step a head." He leant forward towards her, and she was completely unsure what she expected him to do, yet she did know she hadn't expected him to snake an arm behind her and bring out the bottle from the small table.

He took a large mouthful and held the bottle teasingly out of reach.

"How old are you?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"How old are you?" he countered.

"It's rude to ask a lady."

"And round and round we go. A lady wouldn't steel champagne and neck it back, Ruth."

She let her head fall back as a laugh tripped from her throat, and when she righted her head, his face seemed suddenly much closer than it had been.

She could see a small drop of champagne making its way down his chin and, without thinking, reached up and caught it on her finger. She sucked the finger in her mouth, enjoying the tang of the sticky, sweet nectar as her tongue swirled over the tip of her finger.

Harry almost forgot how to breathe as he watched her; it was such an erotically tempting move on her part and he felt himself leaning into her, aching to join his tongue with hers and share the experience. He groaned as she removed her finger and licked her lips. Giving into temptation, he lowered his head to hers, aching to feel her soft lips under his.

"Room Service!" The shout was accompanied by a loud knock on the door and they both sprung apart like guilty teenagers that had been caught out by their parents.

Ruth was the first one to move and practically ran to answer the door, affording Harry the chance to not only clam down slightly but to also have a stern word with himself about his behaviour. He was determined to use this week to get to know Ruth better on a personal level but that didn't mean that he should try and put his tongue in her mouth the very first night they got here. She deserved to be wooed and he vowed not to rush into anything; the last thing he wanted was to pressure her into something and then have her regret it.

Mind and body now fully back under his control, he walked into the room and set about peering under the large silver lids that covered both sets of food, whilst Ruth busied about signing for the food and tipping the waiter. For the next ten minutes they barely looked at one another or spoke, both suddenly unsure of the ground they were on and determined not to do anything to alarm the other one.

"How's the food?" He was aware of how lame a question it was but it was the only thing he could think to say to her that was completely innocent.

"Good, thanks. How's your steak?"

"Nice and rare just how I like it."

"No wonder your cholesterol is so high, all that red meat."

"Have you been reading my files again Miss Evershed?!"

"Um, no. I wouldn't dream of reading your personal files Harry." She tried to sound outraged at the accusation but they both knew that she made a habit of keeping tabs on him. It was something which both comforted and frustrated him, especially when his lunch time sandwiches now came on brown bread instead of white and didn't have any butter on.

He had never acknowledged that it was her doing it, just grumbled occasionally and ate it anyway and she had never admitted meddling but, since she arranged the sandwich delivery, she was the only suspect.

"I'm surprised I was even allowed to order it; someone seems to have started tampering with my food orders lately."

She looked a little sheepish for a moment but noticed him smiling softly at her, before managing to gather her wits and counter his inquisition with her own.

"Were you jealous? Earlier? About the champagne?" she asked. She willed him to say yes, knowing that if he did she would more than willingly bring back the moment that had been interrupted by the room service and lean in to kiss him.

"Jealous? Don't change the subject."

"Jealous, yes."

"N-no. Leon's just not…he's not the type of bloke I'd want to see you involved with. Shady past."

"Oh, so it's only my welfare," she muttered, and took renewed interest in a piece of bacon hanging out of the lightly toasted bread. She picked at it, pulling bits of it out and popping it into her mouth piece by piece.

"Yes. Well, no. I don't know."

"Neither of us ever does."

"I'm not trying to play games, Ruth. If I'm going to upset you, I'd rather just go." He was already standing and she wasn't sure what to say to make him stay that wouldn't result in a conversation she didn't feel ready to have.

"What are the plans for tomorrow?" she asked, quickly, thinking of nothing else which wasn't completely loaded with meaning.

"I think Adam wants us _all_ to scout out bars in the morning, which could turn out to be my own personal hell." He saw her face drop. "If you're around, though, I'll look for you when I get back."

"I'd like that."

"Goodnight, Ruth."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Once inside his room, Harry was unable to stop the thought that there were possibly only twenty paces and two doors that separated her from him. He wondered what effect her being so close would have on his sleep and decided that he would either spend the night awake torturing himself picturing her sleeping or else it would fuel his fantasies of her to epic proportions. Neither option seemed incredibly relaxing to him. Unknown to him Ruth was still sat on the edge of her large bed, looking longingly towards the room door and hoping that some semblance of sense and clarity might occur to him, and he might sweep in and throw her roughly backwards, bringing her top up and caressing his hands across her smooth…

She stood, suddenly, aware that her hands had been messing with the hem of her top and her fingers gently stroking her stomach as her mental encounter had taken over her, and went into the bathroom, splashing a generous handful of cold water at her face, and shaking her head so that droplets splashed the mirror.

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	11. Chapter 11

_**Wow - not only are they now in Mexico, they're actually outside the hotel building! This is progress! Enjoy...**_

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By half past six the following morning, Harry had given up any hope of sleep. He had slept fitfully for a few hours, his subconscious deciding to torture him at every turn as he dreamt of Ruth. As he got up and stretched his kinked muscles out, he wandered out on to the balcony, enjoying the view and the early morning sunshine. Impulsively, he decided to go for a swim; the water looked so inviting as the sun sparkled on the surface and he longed for the reprieve that cutting through the cool, refreshing waves would offer him from his thoughts.

The beach was practically deserted at this time of the day and he took heart in the fact that it was very unlikely to meet anyone he knew out here at this hour. Ditching his towel and flip flops on one of the sun beds, he eased himself out of his t-shirt, feeling the warmth of the sun playing on his back. The water was every bit as cool and crisp as he had imagined and, before long, his strong arms were cutting through the surface of the steady waves as he swam towards the furthest buoy he could see. His swim was exhilarating and he was quite impressed with his pace; it had been a while since he had been swimming. Emerging out of the water, he noticed that he had a perfect view of the hotel and tried to figure out which room was his, a task which was made relatively easy when he spotted a familiar brunette trying to hide from sight.

He laughed to himself and didn't know whether to wave at her or to cover himself up as soon as possible. He knew that she was still watching him; he could almost feel her eyes sweeping over him. Trying to remain calm and look relaxed, he carried on walking up the beach, the sand sticking to his wet feet as he went. By the time he reached his belongings, he was aware that he was putting on a slight show for his audience of one; he did not normally towel himself off in such a manner, nor did he enjoy walking about without a shirt on but, this once, he decided to make an exception. He hoped she was enjoying the view.

---

The morning had dragged by in a tortuously slow fashion since surreptitiously watching him, half crouched – for it was hard to remain completely hidden when she was quite so desperate to watch him – behind the patio furniture on the balcony, as he had taken an early morning swim.

She too, had been awake early. Dreams of him had left her waking aching and confused at frequent intervals throughout the night but her intentions of clearing her thoughts with an early morning read in the cool morning air had been thwarted by his untimely appearance, and now her body ached all the more. The shorts she had helped him to pick out had definitely been the right choice and even from such a distance she had been able to see clearly the definition of his legs silhouetted against the pale sand. What had been worse, was that she had all too easily been able to re-conjure the image of him in the changing rooms, and exactly what those shorts had shown off besides his muscular thighs.

As much as it was almost beautifully painful to think about the changing rooms and the more recent events of that morning, that had been about all that had gotten her through three hours of sitting with Jo in the hotel's salon, rating each hair style on a scale from one to ten. Ros had walked out after ten minutes – something she too had felt like, but was far too polite to do.

Now - Jo, her Mother, one of Zaf's sisters and the hairdresser having finally agreed on a hair style for the bride to be and moved on to make-up - Ruth was staring wistfully out at the sunshine. Perhaps it was slightly selfish of her, but she really wanted to go and sunbathe; she could also admit to herself that she wanted to be on the look out for Harry when he came back from his morning's ordeal with the lads. The chances of meeting him in the hotels hair and beauty salon were slim to none, which meant that she needed to find an excuse to leave. After a further forty minutes of mind numbing boredom, it appeared that her ordeal was over, they were finally leaving and she could feel the sunshine calling to her.

"Why don't we have some lunch?"

Ruth fought a brief impulse to punch Jo's mother for the suggestion, before politely declining the invitation and praying that Jo didn't insist on her joining them.

"Are you sure you don't want to come Ruth?"

"I'm sure, you should enjoy a little family time. Don't worry about me."

---

By the time he arrived back at the hotel, Harry's head was pounding; a combination of heat and inane twittering about which bars offered the best balance between range of lagers, range of shots, price of drinks and prettiest waitresses. The latter, Adam had forced a begrudging Harry to help him out with, given that he deemed Zaf's opinion null and void in light of the fact that he wouldn't be allowed to sample any of their charms.

The fact that Harry didn't want to sample any of their charms seemed to have gone without much notice. If anything, it actually seemed to have spurred the pair of them on, and he had endured a painfully clear insight into the way the young male mind worked.

"Couldn't hurt, Harry," Adam had egged on after sensing his indifference as to whether or not the waitress looked like the back end of a bus or like a supermodel.

"Yeah," Zaf had chimed in, "the minute you are unavailable, girls notice you loads more. It's practically fact."

"Duly noted," he replied sarcastically, with the interest of someone barely listening, let alone duly noting anything.

"Worked with Jo, and I'm the happiest bloke alive."

Harry rolled his eyes at this point, and wondered if he should point out that the reason his relationship with Jo worked was not, as he thought, because Zaf had flirted his way around the entire office, but because the woman had the patience of a saint and took a firm had with him where no other woman had. He had a new respect for his young charge since she'd managed not only pull Zaf away from handing in a new S24 every week, but put up with his acquired taste in jokes enough to marry him. "Zaf," he began, and stopped short.

"Um?"

"Nothing. I just wouldn't voice that theory too loudly."

Back in the present, entering the lobby, he was still aware of the lively buzzing of their conversation, as the topic now shifted to whether or not they should make it a theme night to tie in with the fact that they had settled on a bar called Pretty Polly's. Adam seemed to have decided that as it had neither a girl called Polly, nor anyone decidedly pretty - having eventually opted for drinks range and price over cleavage - that in order to make the most of the situation, it would be beneficial for them to take the sea faring theme of the establishment in hand and was now loudly musing whether it was possible to obtain pirate costumes somewhere in the resort.

"I'm not dressing up," sulked Harry, his eyes darting around every available area of the lobby hoping to catch a glimpse of Ruth.

"Well you'll look like the stick in the mud then, won't you. Robert and Yasser will do it and I'm willing to bet Ben, Ed and Tim will too. Do you reckon your dad will, Zaf?"

"Unlikely, mate. He's worse than Harry. Jo's might…not sure."

Harry ignored him and kept moving across the lobby, wondering whether the bar, the lounge or the pool held his best bet. He didn't want to raise his hopes too high in case she had gone off with Jo or any of the numerous family members of the wedding couple seemingly milling about. This last though was particularly unwelcome; between them, Zaf and Jo had a total of 5 brothers and Harry had sized them up in the bar to all be within a viable dating age range for Ruth, and as unfeasibly good looking as their MI5 siblings. Pushing the thought away, and eventually favouring the pool, with the logic that it lead down to the sea if that failed, he stepped through the glass doors and shielded his eyes to the light.

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	12. Chapter 12

**_A slightly longer, half-naked treat! _**

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Ruth let out a contented sigh as she relaxed on the sun lounger; skipping lunch and heading straight for the beach had been a very good idea in her opinion. She could feel the tension ease from her body as she allowed the sun to warm her skin and she let thoughts drift away to the gentle sound of the waves crashing against the rocks not too far away. These thoughts, unsurprisingly, centred around Harry. She had scanned the beach for him as she arrived and had been disappointed to find that he wasn't to be found amongst the swimmers or sunbathers. In fact, it appeared to her that she must have been staring a little too intently in one direction when a guy holding a surf board winked and smiled at her. Looking away quickly, she busied herself with first locating a sun bed and then sorting all her beach necessities out. Had she been paying attention, she might have noticed the tall, tanned and toned male that was making his way towards where she now sat as she applied the first layer of sun tan lotion.

"Need any help?"

Startled, she looked up only to find the surfer grinning at her lopsidedly. "No, um, thanks, I'll manage."

"Shame, I wouldn't mind helping you out with those hard to reach spots!"

Flattered, yet slightly panicked at the thought that Harry might walk onto the beach at any moment, she desperately tried to get rid of him. "I'm here with...someone. He'll be here soon so you should just, you know, go."

"Justin."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"It's my name. Justin. And you are..."

"Not interested, Justin." Guilt flooded her as hurt flickered across his boyishly handsome features. "Not that you aren't lovely, of course…you are. It's just, well, it's – I'm spoken for."

"Right, ok." His tone suggested that he didn't believe her.

As he left her alone, she thought about what she had told him. Had she been dishonest? Not really. There was someone else and she was his mind, body and soul. She just hadn't got around to admitting it to him yet. She wondered, idly, if either of them would have the courage to make a move. This week seemed to her to be the perfect opportunity and, as she stretched out, she promised herself that she would at least try to show him that she was open to the idea of romance between the two of them.

Shifting slightly, she reached for the sun cream once more; she didn't want to get burnt and spend the rest of the trip looking like a lobster. She was lost in her own world as she massaged the cream into her warm skin, unaware of the audience she now had. She struggled briefly to rub the lotion into her shoulders and the back of her neck and was startled at the feel of gentle, yet undeniably masculine hands resting on her shoulders. Assuming it was Justin trying his luck again, she was about to turn around and hit him where it hurts when she heard a familiar voice by her ear.

"Need some help?"

His sensual murmur accompanied by the feel of his lip brushing against her ear, made her suddenly very thankful she was sat down. "P-Please."

He smiled at the tremor in her voice and started to massage the cream into her flesh. His hands felt wonderful against her skin, a light yet firm pressure as his fingers danced across her flesh, sending shivers down her spine and making her want him more in that moment than she had ever wanted him before. Neither one of them pointed out that the cream had long since been rubbed in, instead both basked in the contact, silently hoping the moment wouldn't end.

---

"I – er," he tried to begin to speak but his hands had been circling her shoulders and back for so long that his head seemed to have emptied itself of anything sensible. He was also now more acutely aware of them than at any point during the last few minutes. Awkwardly, he lifted them away only to immediately place them back as the combination of the burning desire to touch her again and the almost imperceptible sag of her posture embarrassed him into continuing. "Are you ," he paused again, and his index finger extended itself to brush against the rim of her ear before stroking the skin behind it, almost like a dare to himself which he couldn't resist. "Don't go anywhere," he growled.

"Harry?"

"I'm just going to change into my beachwear. Save me a lounger?"

She smiled in reply, desperately fighting off a recollection of her earlier preview of his beach wardrobe as she watched him disappear back up the sand.

He was back before she knew it, the first she realised being the sound of dragging and a shadow passing over her making her book a little harder to concentrate on. She had to bite her lip from smiling too wide when she realised he was closing the gap between the loungers. She glanced sideways, and caught his gaze, saying nothing, just as no comment was passed in return. He simply settled himself down on his stomach and tilted his head to face her body as she continued to read.

Never, thought Ruth, somewhat ashamedly, had reading been such a difficult task to perform. Fully aware that she was under the scrutiny – albeit rather flattering – of Harry, she had taken to posing awkwardly with the book, perched in a semi -reclined state on the white plastic, holding her stomach flat and her legs at varying angles, bent to show her thighs at their best. She had also taken to holding the book one handedly, and far from making the process more alluring, she had nearly dropped the damn thing three times when her concentration had wondered to other things, and her lapse grip on the spine had let it almost flop from her grasp. The other hand rested to her side, thumb tucked marginally into the waistband at her hip and it was there that she felt the tell tale tingle of a light touch.

Squinting downwards, she could see, almost before she could feel, his fingers move from cautiously resting against hers to slipping over the back of her hand, squeezing it gently. She lifted her gaze to the side, and noted him still face down and watching her.

"I'm just going to go for a swim," he whispered, withdrawing his hand after another light grasp.

She nodded, and returned to her book, peeking out from over it when she deemed him far enough away. His back was turned as he waded into the sea, and she could just about make out the play of muscles rippling under his broad back as he moved further and further away. Casting a glance to either side, watching the other men enter the surf, she conceded there were others with more conventional good looks; muscular, angular, chiselled and well preened, but they were all a little overdone for her taste. No, the only man who truly commanded her attention was the section head now thrice revealed to her to have a rugged, subtly toned body. Something naturally manly without being worked to impossible perfection. The scars, the notch of flesh – an indented shape – missing from the puckered bullet wound, the suggestion that, somewhere, a belly might be trying to escape from behind a life time of built up muscle, all made him real. Touchable.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been watching him. Long enough, certainly, that her charade of occasionally flipping a page had slipped and so too, for that matter, had the book itself. Now dangling loosely in her hand, mainly supported by the lounger, there was almost no way she could persuade anyone she was doing little other than watching him swim, let alone reading. It was as if she was on some other plane, completely cut off from the real world and alone with a fantasy which involved glistening water, heated bodies and the dangerous risk of sand in places sand was never meant to be.

"Is the close up all you hoped for then?" a deep voice asked.

"Uh?" she swallowed, inarticulately. Despite giving him entire focus for goodness knew how long, she hadn't even been aware of him nearing her, lest being upon her…figuratively speaking, she added, mentally.

"I think you know, Ruth," he growled. "I went for an early morning swim while it was quiet...except it wasn't quite as quiet as I thought. Seems I wasn't the only one up." There was a pause, and she wondered if he had quite finished his exquisite torture. He was so close she could feel his breath on her ear and as she closed her eyes off against what was happening, all she could see what the vision of him anyway. Apparently, he was not done. She heard his intake of breath as he prepared to start again, but was taken aback by the low whisper which buzzed softly and seductively against the curve of her cheek bone. "It's a good job I didn't want to go skinny dipping."

She tried, valiantly, to rally her thoughts and summon some sense of composure in the face of overwhelming odds. "I'm not sure what the fish have done to deserve that," she murmured, cheekily.

"The question you should be asking, Ruth, is what haven't you done to deserve that?"

A startled splutter escaped her suddenly dry throat as a heavy blush mingled into the pink already staining her cheeks from the Mexican sun, and her lips kept forming around words which failed to materialise as she mentally flailed round in the hope of saying just about anything. She wasn't sure whether to be relived or frustrated when Zaf's sister Claire came bounding towards them, yelling something about pool games in five minutes, and suddenly it was as if they were back on the balcony, springing apart and taking one step back for every two steps forward.

"Sure, Claire," Ruth murmured, mortified, as the young woman slowed pace and the Spook watched as the realisation seemed to crossed the younger's face that she might just have interrupted an intimate moment. "We'll be with you all in a second."

"I…sorry. Am I interrupting?"

"N-no," they both spoke in unison, shaking their heads and trying to look anywhere but at her or at each other.

"Pool games, you say?" Ruth questioned, injecting a forced enthusiasm into the topic in a bid to avoid any more on the current subject.

"Yeah. Water tag, I think."

"We're in," decided Harry, thinking it had more to do with a chance to chase a wet, half naked Ruth around the pool than anything else. He shook his head as he realised the way he had phrased his thoughts had made him think about more than just pool games.

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	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter 13 already!? Well, unlucky for some...but what about for Ruth and Harry?? **_

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Drained but contented after their earlier pool games, his hand hovered inches from the wood as he stood outside her room and debated whether to knock and see if she was ready for dinner. He worried that it would seem too much to escort her to dinner but was torn as he imagined a special few moments alone with her. In the end, his need to be with her won out and he knocked briefly, feeling decidedly ridiculous as he shuffled nervously about in the hallway. He noted that she looked pleased to see him and offered her a wide smile as she stepped out into the hall with him.

"You look lovely."

His quiet statement was followed by a warm hand being placed on the small of her back as he guided her down the corridor.

"Thank you. I, uh, blue is a good colour on you Harry."

"I'll remember that," he promised, as they headed for the lifts.

There was a brief pause as they waited for the lift to arrive, as if neither felt comfortable talking when they were so still. As they stepped inside, away from the quiet, exposed corridor, they resumed.

"Are you…um, did you still want to go to the ruins?"

She nodded, smiling that he had remembered and brought it up, not her.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," she replied, before the lift signalled its arrival downstairs and they lapsed into quiet again.

---

As they entered the bar, she was pleasantly surprised to find that he didn't remove his hand as she had thought he would do. Instead, it lingered on her dress, warming the skin beneath the thin material as they joined the few that had already gathered. She keenly felt the loss of his touch as he moved to the bar and ordered them both a drink whilst they waited for the rest of the party to arrive.

Dinner was a pleasant, albeit slightly rowdy, affair. Harry was amused to find that Jo and Zaf had decided to join their work colleagues instead of sitting with their respective families.

Although, as he watched them all interact with one another, he reasoned that this small group was almost a family in its own right. They certainly knew more about each other's real lives and spent more time amongst one another than they did with anyone else. He was brought back from his wandering thoughts as the conversation shifted to plans for tomorrow.

"Everyone up for more pool time tomorrow?"

Harry was saved from his mind drifting back to Ruth leaping agilely out of the water, droplets dripping from her curves as she stretched her body to catch a frisbee, by the sound of her voice joining the conversation.

"Actually, um, not me I, uh, I have plans." Ruth coloured as she felt the heat of several stares on her.

"Care to elaborate?"

"The Mayan ruins. When in Rome and all that, although I suppose it should be when in Mexico now..." she trailed off feebly, unsure how much of her plans to reveal.

"You're going off to look at ancient bits of whatever they are, on your own?" Jo asked, slightly worried that Ruth felt the need to go sight seeing alone.

The blush Ruth answered with was telling enough to the rest of them and all eyes turned to Harry.

"Yes?" An edge of slight impatience could be heard as Harry spoke and most of them were wise enough not to ask the question that they all so readily wanted to find out.

"So it's a date then?"

"What? Er, well, I don't really think that's something that needs to be discussed with you Zafar. Or with any of you for that ma..."

"Yes, it's a date." It was a close tie as to who was more stunned by the revelation, Harry, Ruth or the rest of them. She hadn't been aware she had spoken until the words were out and now there was no going back. Her quiet expression had managed to call a halt to conversation and the silence was overwhelming.

"I'm sure you'll have a lovely time. Malcolm and I went today and the views are spectacular."

Ruth was incredibly grateful to Ros for the distraction her words offered and gave the blonde spook a warm smile of thanks. Not even Zaf dared to make a comment to Ros about her and Malcolm's trip out and so the conversation was changed to slightly less incendiary topics for the remainder of the evening.

As the group disbanded and bid their farewells for the night, Harry and Ruth hovered nervously together as they waited for the lift. The doors had hardly slid shut before she was babbling some kind of apology, mixed in with something about being presumptuous all accompanied by a slight wringing of her hands as she spoke. Unsure of the actual words she was speaking but getting the message loud and clear that she was worried he might be upset about referring to their trip as a date, he did the only thing he could think of to get her to stop talking. His hands were warm on hers and she could feel the strength in them as he gently prised her wringing hands apart, her hands were now in his and almost as if they had a will of their own her fingers slid against his until they were entwined fully.

"I rather like the idea of it being a date, Ruth."

Her heart pounded in her chest at his words and as he continued to stare at her so intently she felt decidedly warm. Seemingly incapable of anything else, all she could do was smile at him, shyly at first then with more conviction as she felt his thumbs begin to brush against her soft skin. It seemed he was having as much trouble controlling the movements of his hands as she was this evening. Suddenly, the elevator pinged and came to a halt on their floor, causing them to part reluctantly. As they stepped into the corridor and made their journey towards their rooms, she felt his fingers brush against the tips of her own and, following through with her instinct, she met his hand with hers and bit back a sigh as his larger hand enveloped her own.

Much to their mutual disappointment they were at her room within minutes and he let her go of her hand so she was able to retrieve her key card and open her door. She turned to him as one foot crossed the threshold into the bedroom and he sensed she was working up her nerve to ask him inside.

"Sweet dreams Ruth." His senses filled with her perfume as he leant in and planted a promise filled kiss on her cheek. "I'll see you in the morning. Breakfast at eight?"

Pleased at the stunned look on her face, he stepped back and allowed her to go inside, before turning and walking the few steps to his own room.

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	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you to all for the lovely reviews from the last chapter. Keep them coming, it makes these two peas especially happy! I think it's only fair to warn our dear readers that the next few chapters might be a tad frustrating- all I can say is that there IS a plan and you have to trust us that it's worth the wait.**

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The next morning was a decidedly early start and, as much as she was desperate to look wonderful on her outing, Ruth was beginning to wish she had spent a little less time wondering what to wear when she had got back from dinner and a little more time sleeping instead. In the end, she had opted for some khaki city shorts teamed with her semi-sheer kaftan and was rather pleased with the results. She felt suitably covered and yet the floaty fabric and salacious notch at the neck of the garment made her feel feminine and attractive. 

A rap at the door at five to eight announced Harry's arrival, and she was unsurprised at his offer to escort her down to breakfast.

---

"Well, there is a tour which leaves from here every morning at ten," she suggested, pushing her eggs around her plate, when she realised that neither of them had thought through the finer details of their day out.

"No. Sorry. I'm not getting on a coach full of ignorant tourists who don't know the difference between their Aztecs and their Mayans."

"Harry!"

"Sorry," he apologised. "I just don't fancy being herded around and patronised by a guide in a silly t-shirt."

He had a point, she conceded. Last time she had gone on a historical tour under the supervision of a guide, it has taken all her self control not to correct him on almost every 'fact' he gave out.

"Well, we get the local bus and do it ourselves then."

He looked a little dubious.

"Public transport isn't quite as disease ridden and humiliating as you think, Harry. Remember some of us have to get it everyday."

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't say anything."

"Your face did."

"Oh hush up," he said, but it was accompanied a gentle nudge of her foot with his, and she slipped her foot out of her sandal and rubbed her toes against his ankle in response.

"So which ruins then? The ones at Tulum are quite far, but they're supposed to have lovely views, and we can do Xcaret and Xel-Ha on the way and come back via Coba," she suggested." He looked at her blankly. "That is, unless you have another idea? I don't want you to think I'm dragging you around," she muttered.

"Ruth, I hate to break it to you, but they're all just names to me. I'll trust your expert judgement. And, so you know, I'm yours to drag anywhere today," he offered, with a warm smile.

She returned his smile and felt a flustered warmth seep through her. "I, er," she grappled under the table for her handbag, and immediately wished she hadn't, as ducking down had given her a perfect close up of his muscular calves. "I have this little map," she valiantly continued, pulling it out.

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't," he laughed.

---

"Bloody hell, Ruth," Harry groaned, as his back hit the metal bar at the back of his seat, and the bus skidded to a stop. "Who's idea was this?"

"Yours, remember?" she teased, and he shot her a playful dirty look.

It had not been the best of journeys. Although the route was, mercifully, mainly a main costal route, the driver was reckless at best, taking 'Stop' signs and traffic lights as advisory messages rather than law, and detouring off the timetabled route to avoid traffic where the fancy took him. By their first destination, more than an hour after leaving the hotel, they were more than looking forward to getting off the death-trap.

Grabbing her handbag and slinging it across her body, she followed Harry down the gangway to the doors and onto the dusty surface of the lay-by.

"Got everything?"

She nodded affirmatively.

"Good," he smiled, placing his hand stiffly at his side and wondering whether or not to grab hers.

At the sight of the queue of people in front of them Harry sighed, he was already sweating and they had only been off the bus for three and a half minutes. Automatically he joined the back of the queue; only realising as he stood there quietly that he had no idea what he was actually waiting for.

"It's for the tram that takes us to the entrance." She muttered still reading the guidebook in her hand.

He wasn't overly thrilled at the prospect of more public transport and would have commented on his disapproval had she not chosen that moment to shove the guidebook back into her bag and slip her right hand into his left.

"Don't want to get separated." She was distinctly pink in the face as she spoke.

"Of course." He squeezed her hand gently in reassurance.

---

He was slightly disappointed that she dropped his hand as they passed through the portal in the stone wall and caught their first glimpse of the majestic ruins before them. He watched her as she used her hands to shield the sunlight from her eyes; the expression on her face enchanted him. He could see her joy at being there, the smile that lit her face made her look even more beautiful to him and he couldn't help but smile with her.

"Where shall we start?" He had moved close to her side and she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as his hand slid onto her waist and glided across the sheer material of her Kaftan before coming to rest on the small of her back.

Flustered, but inordinately pleased at the sudden intimacy between them she garbled something about the temple being as good a place as any to start, and pointed vaguely to the buildings on the North side. She noted that he didn't remove his hand as they set off towards the temple and she was lost in a day dream of how it might feel if his hand slipped lower. All too sudden they were stood at the bottom of the stone steps which led to the temple itself; excitedly she turned to Harry and told him what they were looking at.

"This is the Temple of the Descending God, Harry. It's the only structure here to bear his name on it. We should be able to see it clearly." She was already up the first three steps; before he had chance to even mount the first one. "There are murals inside too; we really have to see those!"

He laughed at her enthusiasm, but took her outstretched hand in his and happily let her drag him up the remainder of the steps.

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	15. Chapter 15

**Happy Belated Birthday to Gem!! **

**Don't worry...it's all starting to come together now...

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By the middle of the morning, it was almost unbearably hot, and as enjoyable as he found Ruth's company, being dragged up and down temple steps at brake neck speed as she attempted to take in every last inch of the site, was beginning to wear thin. What had started as adorable enthusiasm had now resulted in him wishing desperately for a cold pool, a colder drink and a minute to catch his breath.

"Ruth," he gasped, dry mouthed, as she launched off the bottom step of a temple and made to stroll across to the next monument in her guide. She stopped at the tug of her wrist and he swallowed to wet his mouth against the heat. "Slow down, we've got all day."

She looked at him, an embarrassed flush creeping into her cheeks to match the colour that the sun had stained his. "Sorry, I tend to get a little bit carried away."

"I'd noticed. I like it. I could just do with a water or something."

"You…like it?"

"Yes, it's endearing. It's quite sexy, actually, seeing you so passionate about things."

If it was possible, she turned a deeper red and was suddenly equally desperate for something cool and refreshing, or indeed anything to distract her from looking at the way his fringe curled in the damp of perspiration. "There…um…I think there was an ice cream kiosk outside the front entrance. Your tickets let you back in all day," she muttered.

He nodded, amused by her avoidance of what he'd just said, and tugged her wrist again.

"What?" she asked.

"You're equally sexy when you're shy, too."

He heard a faint gasp escape and noticed how her eyes widened a fraction at his words, and laughed freely as she bit her lip and started rooting around in her bag, mumbling about finding some change for the vendor.

---

"What do you want then? I'm buying, so you can put all that change back."

She smiled, with a breathy laugh, and stepped aside as she gave him her order, her laugh turning louder as Harry struggled to communicate it in Spanish to the staunch looking Mexican man behind the window.

"Quisiera la botella dos de agua, de un cornetto y de un Calippo, por favour." The words took him by surprise, not because she'd said them, but because they were whispered softly, directly into his ear. He had to stop himself from groaning involuntarily at the fact that, in order to do so, she had had to push back into the queue behind him, and was now pressed closely along the length of his back as her breath tickled his neck.

He began to repeat her words out loud, and fumbled when he realised he was at a loss as to what anything past "agua" had been, so caught up was he in what was happening.

She began to recite the words again, more softly and slowly, pausing for him to parrot it back, and finding it intensely amusing as he did so.

When he had finally finished, much to the evident relief of the growing queue behind him, he advanced upon her, a look on his face somewhere between menace and adoration. "You know, you could have just placed the order for me."

"I could have, Harry, but where's the fun in that? I've got to have a little revenge for you embarrassing me."

"You're a little minx, Ms Evershed," he admonished, savouring the electricity which passed between their fingers as he handed her the water and Calippo.

Less than two minutes later, the words "You're a little minx, Ms Evershed," had never seemed truer, and yet the woman in question was ignorant to the effects she was having on the man sat next to her atop a dusty wall.

He had made the mistake of glancing across to her, eating her Calippo, and now he couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from her as she continued obliviously. It was the way she had been sucking at the tip of the icy treat which had first caught his attention, as the glacial, orange ice-lolly slid between her lips, but now…oh God, now she was rolling her tongue around the edge of it where it threatened to drip and melt.

However, it was fair to say that Ruth was feeling equally flustered at the turn of events...indeed, her effort to focus all her attention on her ice cream was far from a deliberate trick and was actually a desperate bid to avoid the affect _he_ was having on _her_, ever since she had noticed the way his tongue dipped into the ice cream cone, licking out the strawberry goodness inside.

A startled silence seemed to have descended over them, both shocked at the level of the daydreams now surfacing in front of them.

"Teach me some more Spanish," he garbled quickly, desperate to do anything to stop her from doing _that_ to her ice cream.

"Ok, what do you want to know?" she asked, mercifully deferring her attention from the ice lolly.

"I don't know."

"Well that's helpful."

"Tell me anything."

"Mi llamo Harry."

"My name is Harry?"

"Yep. Trabajo para el gobierno."

"Something about the Government."

"I work for the Government. Usted está bajo detención."

"No idea."

"Guess."

"No, next."

"Ti quiero," she volunteered, with a blush, desperately hoping that this definitely wasn't a double bluff.

"Which is?"

"That one you definitely have to work out."

---

Never had he had more of an engaging guide than Ruth, for the next couple of hours they walked through the ruins hand in hand as she gave an insightful commentary of the site. He had flirted with her the entire time, making playful comments that were just within the bounds of propriety. An ease had settled over them once more and as they stood admiring the view of the peninsular from atop the castle, Harry felt confident enough to slip an arm around her waist once more. He smiled as she moved in closer to him and reflexively tightened his hold on her.

"Absolutely breathtaking." His soft, sensual murmur in her ear sent a tremor through her body.

"Yes, it's so beautiful and peaceful here."

"I meant being able to hold you, Ruth."

There was a soft gasp from her and he delighted in her reaction. Steadying herself with a few deep breaths, she turned to face him, they were now so close their chests were almost pressed against one another. As she raised her eyes to meet his warm, honeyed gaze, she felt his left arm circle her waist until she was fully in his embrace. The look in his eyes told her what he wanted and the tip of her tongue flickered over her lips quickly, moistening her full lips as she waited with breathless anticipation.

"Oh, you beautiful couple! I take picture, yes?"

Harry closed his eyes in disbelief that they had been interrupted again, he began to wonder if he would ever get the chance to show her how he felt properly. He was thoroughly disappointed and would have remained so had she not been smiling at him softly when he opened them again.

"I take picture of you with beautiful wife. Forever keepsake."

Harry was about to tell him to push off, when he heard Ruth's soft voice.

"Si Senor. Cuanto cuesta?"

After the initial haggling over prices, he had lost the thread of the conversation. When they had finished talking in rapid Spanish, she returned her attention to Harry once more, his pulse quickened at the slightly mischievous smile she offered him.

"What did you tell him?!"

"Nothing important." Her attempt at innocence failed spectacularly when she started to giggle.

Pulling her body flush with his, he moved his mouth to her ear, repeating his earlier question. His soft lips brushed against the curve of her ear as he spoke and she had to fight hard not to moan aloud at the sensation. He heard her whispered confession as she moved her forehead to rest against his, he was still caught in the images her words had created. _Honeymoon_. If only.

"Smile for the camera, Harry."

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	16. Chapter 16

_**Sorry this one took ages. It's my fault, really...bad pea :( But Kate and I are now working hard on getting pea fic out more regularly so that normal silly service can be resumed.**_

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The evening following their day trip seemed to descend quickly, and darkness was already settling over the resort as they staggered wearily from the bus, dusty and sticky from the heat of the day. Ruth glanced at him, finding he looked every bit as tired as she felt.

"Dinner?" he asked, as he gallantly took the bag of guide books, history books and the _Encyclopaedia of Mayan Legends_ she had purchased.

She paused for a moment, and appraised his face more fully. With a deep bow of her head, she took his hand and played, cautiously, with his thumb. "No, I'm sorry. Please don't think it's a reflection on the day I've had. If any thing, the e-er, the opposite is, um, true. I've had a lovely day, Harry, but I'm so tired, and I don't want to ruin a perfect day out by falling asleep in my soup at the table. Besides, you look like you could do with going to bed yourse- er, I mean you look tire-"

His laugh cut her off, as he realised her embarrassment at where her speech was taking her. "It's quite alright, Ruth. I wouldn't want to see you asleep in your soup either." There was a pause and a heavy breath before he continued. "Can we have breakfast again?"

"I'd like that. Very much." She smiled, warmly.

He stepped aside as they neared the hotel entrance and let her pass in first, stepping close behind to whisper his pleasure at her acceptance of his offer, and the words sent a pleasant chill down her spine. "Shall we?" he gestured to the lift.

She stepped inside and counted the chews she made on her bottom lip as the lift made its ascent. She had reached twenty two by the time they arrived at their floor. There was just something about being enclosed, alone, in such a small space with him which rendered her incapable of all sane function, and she almost fumbled to be back in the corridor, where she knew some sense of normality could resume.

"Nine?" he asked. "A little more civil seeing as we aren't rushing out. We're at the mercy of the bride and bridegroom all afternoon, I fear. Might as well take the morning at leisure."

She laughed, lightly, and nodded, even though he was still to her side. They approached their rooms, both stopping their stride abruptly, half way between the two doors.

"I-I meant what I said outside. I had a wonderful day. Thank you."

"Thank _you_, Ruth. I don't think I've ever had a better guide, or such a mischievous one." He watched with pride as he made her blush. "Sweet dreams."

Neither moved, each afraid of that dreaded word 'goodnight' for the awkwardness which inevitably followed as to what should come next. Nothing? A handshake? A hug? A kiss? Each seemed equally ridiculous in their own way.

She was aware of movement just as she too had given in and decided to remedy the expectant pause. What she was going to fill it with, she hadn't quite decided, only that her head was moving closer to his and she had moistened her lips. His own face loomed larger also, his scent becoming stronger and flooding her senses with a familiar rush, but the result was an awkward jiggle of heads, the kind of dance of embarrassment done between foreign dignities when neither party is quite aware of the protocol of cheek kissing. Was he leaning in to kiss her mouth? No, her cheek…no…oh God, she didn't know and, evidently, neither did he know _her_ intentions. Her head bobbed backwards just as quickly as it had forward, and his did the same, both of them ending up back in their original state, eyeing each other, full of nervous tension.

Breaking the gaze, Ruth studied the carpet momentarily, before raising her eyes again, catching a change in his expression once he though she was no longer watching. He looked vulnerable; disappointed. Summoning every ounce of willpower, she placed one foot in front of the other, stepped towards him, placed her hands gently on his cheeks and pressed her lips lightly against his before her brain had a chance to reason against it. It was over almost as soon as it had started, but her whole mouth seemed to burn with his touch as she mouthed 'goodnight' and took two large steps backwards towards her door, fumbling to get inside before ­­longing fully overcame her sensibilities.

"Goodnight, Ruth," he sighed, failing to hide to schoolboy grin which he couldn't help from showing.

---

Hidden away inside her room, she let her body fall back against the door, letting her head drop to the wood with a soft thud as a mild euphoria rushed through her at the milestone _she_ had just initiated, however briefly. A grin spread involuntarily over her face and a breathy laugh escaped unchecked. She had just kissed Harry Pearce! Nobody watching, no stupid interruptions, just her lips against his.

She let her memories rewind a few seconds and recalled with pride the look on his face after she had pulled away. There had, of course, been surprise there; she knew it had been on her own face too; but behind that was something deeper. Satisfaction. Affection. Maybe something deeper still.

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	17. Chapter 17

_**We're still going...chuck us some mars bars and cherry drops when you review **_

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Surprisingly, they found themselves alone at breakfast, something for which they were both grateful. They had been offered a table outside on the deck of the restaurant and accepted it willingly. The stunning views and the gentle sea breeze helping to create a relaxed atmosphere between them as they sat down. She had been slightly worried that it would be awkward and tense after their fleeting kiss, but Harry had put her at ease with a chaste kiss to her cheek and a slightly shy enquiry about if she had slept well. 

"Do you have plans for today?" he asked, as they both sipped glasses of fresh orange juice.

"Well, I have to meet Jo later for yet another hair consultation but that isn't until this afternoon." She grimaced at the thought of another sunny afternoon wasted inside the beauty salon.

"I was wondering if, um, you might like to go out on one of the boats that are for hire. We could hire one for a couple of hours and pack a light lunch to take with us?"

"I'd like that," she lied, both thrilled at the prospect of spending more time alone with him and horror stricken at the thought of being out on a boat. If there were two things that didn't mix, they were Ruth Evershed and boats. With the memory of their kiss fresh in her mind, there was no way she was going to turn him down, instead she listened as he excitedly told her about the cove they could go look at and prayed that the hotel gift shop stocked sick sickness pills.

---

Half an hour later, they were stood at the edge of the water, Ruth fully trussed up in her lifejacket as Harry eyed his with mistrust. A small amount of bickering between the pair of them had ensued as Ruth insisted he wear it. Indulging her, he had slipped it on, refusing to fasten it up and muttering to himself that James Bond never had to wear a life jacket. Their boat arrived and the pair waded out into the sea before climbing aboard and acquainting themselves with its layout.

Despite Harry's reassurances that he knew how to operate a speed boat perfectly well, Ruth insisted on learning the basics before they set off.

"Don't you trust me to get you back to shore safely?" he asked, slightly unsure as to why she was taking this so seriously when it was supposed to be fun.

"Of course but what happens if you have a heart attack or get stung by a jelly fish and are unable to drive us back safely? We'd be left stranded, bobbing about on the ocean as you died in my arms!" she finished, with a rather hysterical edge to her voice.

He pointed inside the boat. "It has a radio, Ruth. I think I'm fairly safe from having heart attack, I've already seen you in your bikini and survived." He kept his tone light and winked at her. "Tell me what's wrong, please."

His hand reached for hers, squeezing her fingers in reassurance as she tried to look anywhere but at him. "I don't like boats, they tend to make me feel ill."

"Why didn't you say so?"

"I wanted to spend the morning with you," she admitted, quietly, and it made his heart soar.

"That's all you had to say." He brushed the hair from her face and cupped her cheek with his warm hand. "Come on; let's get you back on land."

"Oh Harry, I'm sorry I didn't mean to spoil..."

He silenced her with a broad finger resting against her full lips. "You haven't spoilt anything. How does a picnic on the beach sound?"

"Lovely. So long as it's in a nice secluded place..."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," he answered with a twinkle in his eye at the thought of the two of them alone on a deserted stretch of sand.

---

The shifting sand was hot under her bare toes, and she found herself almost running on tiptoes, much to Harry's amusement.

"Too hot to handle?" he enquired, with a naughty grin.

She kicked a small ridge of sand at his shins and told him, with a barely suppressed smile, to be quiet and behave.

"Did you talk to your boss at GCHQ like that, Ruth?" he teased, and made a kick back.

She jumped out the way of the oncoming sand storm and leapt to one side as he came at her again, chasing her across the sand as she shrieked and laughed. He watched the edge of the kaftan she had on play against her buttocks, barely covering any of her tan legs, and was almost relieved when she turned around and ran backwards instead. He advanced quickly, despite her agility and his hand grasped a fistful of her kaftan as they both tumbled ungracefully to the soft sands.

She was pressed beneath him, by no means uncomfortably, and was aware of his palm settled on her hip, both their bodies frozen in the moment and their breathing heavy.

"You've gone quiet on me."

She forced herself to look him in the eye.

"This is probably just about the best week I've ever had, let alone the best holiday," she admitted, and she saw him question how that could suddenly make her so uncomfortable. "But I'm not sure I can do this to Jo. It's her week. Her and Zaf."

He rolled onto the sand and stared at the cloudless sky, letting out a loud sigh.

"Are you mad? I just…I know what I want, now. I _really_ know what I want, and not having it is killing me, but if we're together, Harry, then the whole focus of tonight, and tomorrow…it's not going to be on the bride and groom, is it? And I know you must hate me for sending you all these mixed signals."

"Ruth," he whispered, "I don't hate you. I can wait a few more days. They might be a frustrating few days, but I've managed 3 years of seeing you everyday and not having you. Even when it's rainy, and grey, and you're not in that delightful little bikini, and even when there are no ridiculously steep temples to climb and hot sun to burn in, nothing will really be any different."

"I'll try not to be too alluring then," she joked. "I wouldn't want you having too hard a time."

He turned back to her, the sand sticking to his back as he sat upright. "I may be an outrageous flirt at times, Ruth, but I'm still a gentleman. I'm hardly going to pin you to the altar at the wedding."

She muttered something which sounded like "shame" before clearing her throat and also sitting up to mirror his position. "Is that ok, then?"

"Am I allowed to still be an outrageous flirt?" he asked.

"If you must," she replied, with a roll of her eyes.

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	18. Chapter 18

**_Dedicated to Ruth and Harry._**

**_Knowing that fluff is in order, we give you this extra long cheeky pea chapter. _**

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Having lain on the beach in their new, ill-defined state for some 10 minutes, each quietly pondering the pause their blossoming romance would be taking, the heat and Ruth's proximity were gradually becoming too much for Harry to handle in light of the new 'rules' of their relationship. If he was going to keep any sense of restraint then he needed to cool off and shake away the memories of her pinned beneath him, all heaving cleavage and sand covered skin.

"I'm going down to the water," he announced, leaving it up to her if she invited herself down or not.

She lifted her head up from where she was pillowed faced down in her arms, and squinted in the sun, nodding.

She waited until he was on his way before un-knotting her bikini and lying back down. Her wait to do so had not been out of concerned about him seeing her with it untied – not anymore, and not that he would see much, either – but to have undone it in front of him, she conceded, would have been a little too provocative. She settled herself back on her front, and continued to sunbathe.

---

"You want to be careful some cheeky rogue doesn't try and make off with your top you know."

She bit down the urge to express her surprise and delight at his return and remarked, with wit, "Do you speak from experience there Harry? It takes one to know one."

He blushed, furiously, not having anticipated such a comeback, at least not so quickly. When she received no answer, she simply continued, sounding calmer than she felt, "So are you going to tie them up then or not?"

"I thought I was the outrageous flirt," he commented.

She was about to retort, but was lost in his touch. The feel of his hands on her hot back, nimble fingers gently brushing skin, was electric and tiny sparks were running down her spine. She tried to remind herself of what they had been discussing not half an hour ago, and suddenly wished that, for once, she wasn't so selfless and awkward. Her need to protect Jo and to save face in front of mounting and inescapable speculation was now putting her in an awkward position at best. And it was, she had to admit to herself, none of the positions she had naughtily imagined herself in with Harry this week.

---

Ruth had never imagined she would be as thankful for the hair salon as she turned out to be, but seeing the back of Harry was for once a welcome relief. Their morning had been amazing, but that was the problem and, as Harry watched her head through the lobby to Jo, she was pleased of a few hours to rearrange her thoughts.

"Good morning?" came a cheeky voice followed by a hand on Harry's shoulder.

The older man turned around to address his junior with nothing more than a warning stare.

"Zaf wants us both in the bar," Adam continued, "so if you're done watching Ruth, perhaps we can borrow you."

Harry growled and stalked ahead of the blonde, muttering under his breath and only placing a smile back on his face as he greeted the groom with a firm hand shake.

"Zaf, what can we do for you then?"

"Robert got some pirate costumes, so we just need to dish them out between us when the rest arrive, and then plan our bar crawl so that we finish at Pretty Polly's."

"I thought we weren't dressing up." Harry's voice was beginning to get a certain tone to it, which Zaf chose to ignore.

"No, _you_ just said _you_ wouldn't. Here's your waistcoat and cutlass, you'll have to fight over patches, parrots and hats when the lads turn up."

Harry glared and sat down resignedly on a bar stool to wait for the motley crew.

---

"I can't believe they're doing fancy dress and didn't tell us," Jo wailed. She had been inconsolable for the best part of 15 minutes, ever since Zaf had casually asked to borrow her eyeliner so that he and Adam could achieve a Captain Jack sort of look.

"Don't worry, Jo. It'll be a great night, with or without fancy dress."

The young blonde woman next to her sniffled slightly and tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I just want it to be special, is all."

Pulling her in for a brief hug, Ruth assured Jo that it would be a night to remember. "Come on, let's get you to the room and you can start getting ready..." noting the sad look on her friends face she added "There's pink champagne in there."

Finally getting a smile from Jo, the two women left the patio and headed for Ruth's room, which was to serve as HQ for all the girls getting ready. Once the champagne was in full flow and Ruth had made certain that Jo was being fussed over by the others, she quietly slipped out of the room and hastily made her way round to the back of the hotel. Trying to attract as little attention as possible, she kept close to the wall as she neared her goal. She easily slid past the caution tape and up to the building that was about to be renovated. Casting a quick glance around her she was satisfied the coast was clear and reached for the door handle. She was momentarily surprised to find that it opened with ease but, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she thanked whoever it was that had forgotten to lock up that day and swept inside.

Her search of the room was mercifully short and she was glad for it. As she bundled a few items into a handily discarded holdall that had been at the side of the desk, Ruth mused how it was that people could do things like this for a living. Here she was only 'borrowing' a few bits and pieces and already she worried that her face would be on Crime Watch before the week was out. She dreaded to think what would happen if she stepped outside only to find herself surrounded by armed police officers.

Shaking her head, she mumbled, "Oh yes, because this is the crime of the century Ruth!"

Still, she made sure to finish her task as quickly as possible. Picking the holdall off the floor, she moved to the door, peeked outside to make sure no-one was around and then walked as nonchalantly as possible through the grounds and back inside the hotel.

---

Still a little high from the adrenaline pumping through her veins, Ruth's grand entrance into the hotel room caused some of the girls to jump.

"Fancy dress anyone?!"

Jo's head immediately snapped up. "What have you got?"

Placing the bag on the floor, she bent over and rummaged inside until she found what she was looking for. Standing up swiftly, she threw the object to Jo.

"A hard hat...?" Confused, she looked at Ruth for an explanation.

Turning slightly pink, she realised she hadn't thought it all out. Due to being in a hurry and committing a felony, she had forgotten to think of an exciting way for the girls to use the items she had procured. "Erm, well, I hadn't really got that far but I'm sure between us we can think of a way to wear these," she pointed to a hard hat and a high visibility waistcoat, "and look sexy at the same time."

A silence filled the room as everyone tried to think of something positive. Jo was extraordinarily grateful to Ruth for trying to provide them all with costumes at the 11th hour. It was Zaf's youngest sister, the shyest of all the Younis's, that timidly broke the silence.

"W-we could wear a really short skirt and just a bikini top under the vest. That's sexy, right?"

Slowly, the others nodded and smiled at the suggestion, eagerly following Jo as she headed for Ruth and the holdall of goodies. The room was suddenly filled with chatter as the girls set about striking poses and trying to find the sexiest way of wearing a hard hat. Perhaps inevitably, there were fits of giggles as someone mused who she should ask to borrow a tool from. Amongst the laughter, Ruth stood silently, fretting about her sudden rash decision to provide them all with fancy dress. She was just wondering how long a skirt she might get away with wearing when Jo appeared at her side.

"Thank you so much for doing this Ruth." They shared a quick hug and Ruth tried to look like she was joining in. "I have a skirt you can borrow by the way. That one," she pointed to the knee length skirt in the brunettes hands, "is far too long."

"I'm not sure Jo. M-maybe I'd be better off..."

"Nonsense. You're gorgeous, time you showed Harry just what he's missing out on."

"Harry?! He'll be out with the boys, won't he?"

"Oh did I not mention we were joining up with them at the end of the night?" Her innocent expression did not fool Ruth for one moment.

"No, you neglected to mention that Jo. What the hell am I going to say to him dressed like a builder?!"

"Care to see how handy I am with the right tool?!"

"Jo!"

The younger woman burst in to fits of laughter at the look on Ruth's face. "Ok, you don't have to say that but trust me, he'll like it."

Soon enough they were all ready to hit the bars for the night, Jo's outfit had been tinkered with so it also adorned fluffy L plates and numerous stickers that declared her to be 'Shockingly Sexy', 'Fearlessly Flirty' and 'The Dirtiest of Dancers'. They all looked decidedly silly yet sexy with their assorted colour of hard hats, each worn at a slightly different jaunty angle to offer maximum impact to the wearer. Their waist coats were mainly unbuttoned but tied around their midriffs, displaying a large amount of cleavage and torso which, when coupled with the short skirts, left very little to the imagination. Ruth had acquiesced and was wearing Jo's belt-like denim skirt, her only concession to any form of modesty had been an adamant refusal to have the high visibility jacket completely unbuttoned.

In very high spirits, they left the room and headed for the first bar. From the looks they received walking through the hotel, they were certainly making an impression.

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	19. Chapter 19

_**Look what fluff has managed to wing it's way to your screens! Such a giddy day :D  
**_

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It had taken a couple of drinks but Harry had finally started to enjoy himself. Dressing up hadn't been as cringe worthy as he'd feared and he had to admit that the rogue pirate look had earned them a lot of attention from other women. He wondered if his costume would have any affect on Ruth and smiled as he pictured her trying not to stare at his chest through his half-opened shirt.

She seemed to like looking at his chest when she thought he wasn't watching, not that he was complaining. Far from it, in fact.

"Harry, it's your round," Adam announced as he poured the last of the pitcher of beer into Zaf's glass.

"Same again?"

"Yeah, more beer but make the chasers tequila this time. We'll do slammers..."

Harry nodded and went to the bar trying not to imagine the hang over tomorrow would bring as he placed their order. A few minutes later, he had successfully weaved his way back through the throng of drunken holiday makers and was standing handing out the tequila shots when he heard Zaf mention Jo. He looked across at Zaf and followed his line of sight to where a group of scantily clad women were stood giggling and linking arms as they walked to the bar. Harry's eyes widened as he recognised the petite brunette at the front of the group.

"Oh My God." Zaf's whispered words seemed to capture the thoughts of the entire stag party. "How fit does Jo look?!"

Almost as if she heard him, she turned round, shot him a steamy look and beckoned him over. Not needing a second invitation, Zaf practically ran to the bar keen to show every other guy in the place that she was his. Harry downed his shot and watched every move Ruth made; he didn't think he'd ever seen her look so sexy and right then he couldn't have cared less about their agreement to wait until after the wedding. He wanted her. Badly.

As Zaf and Jo reacquainted themselves with a snogging marathon at the side of her, Ruth sipped her cocktail and turned to look for Harry. A thrill shot through her as she noticed him watching her, his soulful brown eyes roaming her body shamelessly as she leant back against the bar and flaunted herself for his benefit.

She brazenly winked at him before licking her lips in an extremely provocative manner and proceeding to drink her cocktail.

"Bloody hell, I think she wants you Harry!" Adam's drunken shout was followed by a slap on Harry's back and the moment was lost. "Come on, let's grab Zaf and get out of here. We're not meant to be out with the girls until later."

Drunk already after a large glass of white wine, a cocktail and just a few shots, Ruth leant against the bar, staring out to the main strip in the hope of catching another glimpse of the boys' party before they disappeared from sight. She'd rather hoped they would hang about here longer, and she was having a hard time pretending it was for any other reason than the sight of Harry, shirt open and deliberately roughened in his outfit.

A tall, blonde woman asked for her order, and Ruth struggled to make herself heard above the noise.

"Let me," a voice to her left cut in.

"Justin?" she exclaimed, before she could keep her mouth in check. She had pretty much zero desire to see him, but her surprise at finding him there had taken over her ability to control her speech.

"Hello 'not interested Justin'," he replied, mischievously, remembering her brush off the other day. Despite the sting of rejection, she was agonisingly sexy and he was prepared to take his chances. "Are you going to let me have the pleasure of your name this time?"

"Ruth," she replied, looking up at him from beneath dark lashes as he passed her the drink she'd ordered. "I think you're a naughty boy, Justin. I told you I had a boyfriend."

"Well, where is he?" he whispered in her ear.

"Being a pirate with his crew," she answered. "A very sexy pirate."

"I think you're drunk," he observed, with a laugh.

"I think you like it," she countered.

"I do. You seem less inhibited. It's sexy."

"I'm a very sexy woman," she slurred. "And apparently, quite desirable, but you don't get to choose me because I," she raised her finger in the air and waved it about, "am not a piece of meat." Spontaneous applause began to break out amongst the hen party behind her, from all except Ros who nursed her drink with a look of indifference across her face; she didn't do drama. The noise spurred her on, and the wine sloshed about in the glass in her free hand. "And I know someone," she continued, "s-someone who likes my mind because I am," she paused and continued to wave her finger as she searched for a word, "…an analyst." She pointed her finger into his chest as she finished for good measure, and flopped onto the bar stool as Ros then lead her away.

---

From outside, hovering by a plant pot while they waited for Zaf's youngest brother to decide whether or not he was going to throw up his 7 tequila slammers and pint of Stella, Harry looked in, spotting the brunette and her companions at the bar, anxious for Yasser to get himself sorted one way or another in the hope that he could convince them all to just stay here after all. He watched as she began to place her order and was suddenly flooded with irrational jealousy when someone next to her seemingly offered to get her drink for her.

_Don't be daft, _he told himself,_ women get offered drinks by letches all the time if tonight is anything to go by. It doesn't means she's going to acknowledge him._

Jealously turned to mild panic as he watched her turn around and exclaim something to him, and it became apparent that Ruth and her muscular-armed, tanned friend had met before. He craned his neck to better see what was going on, but through the crowds of people which kept traipsing past it was impossible to view them for more than a few seconds at a time. He watched as he whispered something to her, and placed a drink in her hand, but the next time he managed to glimpse that same section of the bar, neither of them were there.

He wanted to go back in and find her. He knew she wouldn't be doing anything with him, but he wanted to be the only man fresh in her mind and was burning to prove he was just as good a catch as some preppy 20 year old surfer.

---

"Where did Harry go?" Ruth mumbled to Jo, when she and Ros made their way back over to the troops.

"They left, we're meeting them later."

"Oh." She didn't hide her disappointment very well.

"Why?" Jo giggled and winked. "Looking to pull him?"

"Noooo!" Ruth exclaimed, and went bright red.

"Ha! Yes you are!"

"No, I'd-s-never-do that t' you," she promised, trying to get the words out. "Not on your hen night."

Jo embraced her, drunkenly. "I love you, Ruth. You should be happy. Besides, he looks good in a pirate outfit! Bow chicka wah wah!"

Clare, Lucy and Layla cackled riotously. Ros looked like she wanted to kill them all.

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**_Please review, we're getting into drunky time and, you'll never believe it, finally getting to one of the actual points of writing this_**_** (the first was Harry in swimwear!) xx**_


	20. Chapter 20

**Ah, we finally made it! This is kind of the place we've been heading since July! A random dream and some pea chat turned into this epic!

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**By the time they made their way to Pretty Polly's to meet the boys, not only were the girls roaring drunk and almost falling over, they had decided to sing a rousing rendition of 'Jo the builder' as they walked along the street, earning themselves several rounds of applause and numerous wolf whistles as they shimmied and danced to the tune of the kids TV show.

The combination of cocktails and free shots had made them take leave of their senses and, after their success with singing, they found it highly amusing to enter the bar in a conga line. Although she was drunk, Ruth had clung to Jo's words about wanting her to be happy and decided to tell Harry in no uncertain terms that she was done waiting. As they danced their way through the crowd and to the bar, she searched the crowds for a glimpse of him. She smiled happily as she saw him stood talking to Zaf's brother and was about to make her way over to him when a buxom blonde woman sidled up to him and rested her hand on his bum. For a moment she couldn't breathe, let alone move. She wanted to march right over to where they were stood and demand to know what the hell was going on but her legs wouldn't move and she was unable to stop watching as Harry turned to look at the unknown blonde.

"Ruth, what you having?" slurred Clare next to her and she was forced to take her eyes off Harry for a moment.

"Anything," she mumbled and whipped her head back round just in time to see Harry firmly, but politely, remove the hussy's hand from his backside and say something to her. She had no idea what he'd said but it was enough to make the woman look disappointed before she moved away. "That's it, keep moving...he's taken..." she mumbled under her breath, keeping a close eye on the woman.

She was still captivated by the back of Harry's head when a purple cocktail was shoved into her hand and Adam and Yasser appeared. They herded the girls towards where the boys were stood and made sure that they were all together. The group started to mingle and it took only moments for Harry to manoeuvre himself so that he was stood next to Ruth. No-one paid them the slightest bit of attention as Harry leant towards her and whispered hotly in here ear.

"You look incredible." Enjoying her small gasp at his words he decided to keep talking. "In fact you look very fit."

He was pleased with himself for saying it; all night the lads had teased him about his age and for not being 'with it'. Maybe if he sounded a little younger in his phraseology, Ruth might appreciate it more.

"Oh, well thanks. I try to swim when I can but I wouldn't say I was very fit Harry." Drunk as she was, she was unable to fathom why Harry started laughing suddenly.

At her confused and slightly hurt look, he steered her away from the group, towards a darkened corner. He backed her against the wall, one arm reaching up to her face as he traced his forefinger over her pouting lip.

"I meant fit as in hot Ruth. You know sexy...sultry...wanton."

She shuddered at his words and his touch; she could feel the heat from his body as it pressed lightly against hers. She was sure he was going to kiss her and couldn't help but flick her tongue over her lips to moisten them, she grinned mischievously at his soft groan.

"You have to stop doing that Ruth."

"Or else what?!" she teased.

"Or else I might just shove you up against this wall and..."

"Oi, you two!" Adam's voice sounded incredibly loud as he shouted to them from across the bar "You can play Pirates of the Caribbean later! There's drinking to be done!"

"We'll finish this later," he assured her, before taking her hand and leading her back towards the rest of the group.

---

Several shots and ridiculous drinking games later, most of the group were in various states of undress and dishevelment. They had moved onto dares at Adams urging, all of which seemed sexual in nature. Ruth was relieved that she had managed to avoid being selected for a dare so far. It was only a matter of time however, and knowing Adam, he would want to save the best dares until last.

She watched with slight trepidation as Harry was selected for the next dare, pulling a chair into the middle of the circle Adam encouraged Harry to take a seat. Once settled, he showed Harry a small shot glass containing something that looked suspiciously like vodka jelly.

"All you have to do, Harry, is eat the jelly." His wide smile was deceiving and Harry waited for the twist. "From Ruth's body."

Ruth felt her heart pound as she saw Adam make his way towards her, take her hand and lead her over to Harry. Before she knew it she was sat across his lap, one strong arm wrapped around her waist as he steadied her. Her eyes found his and she was flattered to see that his eyes were seeking her permission for him to continue. She gave him a slight nod and he used his free hand to first untie the vest at her waist, his fingers sending tingles through her body as they brushed against the bare skin of her midriff. He eased his fingers up under the yellow nylon material until he reached the button holding the remainder of the vest in place. He deftly flicked the button undone and parted the material, swallowing hard as she was sat on his lap half naked and exposed to his view.

Amidst the cheers and hollers of the group, the jelly was applied to Ruth's chest and Harry lowered his head. Never had she felt anything so extraordinary in her life. The first touch of his tongue to her flesh was electric and she shivered in delight. He didn't so much eat the jelly as devour her completely. The jelly was sucked from her cleavage efficiently, leaving a sticky trail across her heated flesh. He was vaguely aware of someone saying they could stop now but all he knew was the feel of her skin beneath his lips and he wanted to taste her more fully. He licked and nibbled at her flesh until not a trace of the confectionary was left. She moaned as his tongue toyed with the material covering her right breast and reluctantly he lifted his mouth away from her tempting body.

They were both breathing heavily as they stared intently into the others eyes, neither one paid any attention to the group behind them, who all looked on in varying degrees of shock at the explicit show they had just witnessed. She could see where her hands had threaded through his hair as he had wrecked havoc on her senses, making her lose control and wanting nothing more than to have him pay the same attention to the rest of her body. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted him before and decided they had skirted around the edge of this mutual adoration for far too long.

She moved quickly, swinging one leg fully over his as she straddled his lap. Her hands worked their way into his soft hair again as she pulled him in for a steamy kiss. Their tongues danced against one another lightly at first and then harder as the kiss deepened and threatened to overwhelm them both. His hands roamed her back, first touching and teasing under the high visibility vest before moving lower and kneading her decidedly firm denim clad bottom. As his hand moved lower still and began creeping up her skirt to stroke and massage her backside, Jo begged Adam and Zaf to get them to stop, before their either did it right there in front of everyone or they all got thrown out. They were so busy debating who, out of the three of them, was the least likely to get fired for interrupting, that they missed Ruth's quiet murmur to Harry that she wouldn't mind getting him alone. By the time Adam had decided to bite the bullet and turned round, Harry and Ruth were staggering out of the door, seemingly alternating between kissing and giggling as they bumped into things on their way.

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**Leave a review and we'll show you how steamy things are gonna get...**


	21. Chapter 21

_**Enjoy!! We've only had this part written since July ;)  
**_

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Her back hit the wall with a force that was almost punishing, but the alcohol in her system and the dull ache which pulsed exquisitely in the pit of her stomach silenced her pain. His hand pressed firmly between her thighs, hoisting her short skirt into a belt of crumpled material around her hips. As he rubbed his fingers against her underwear with steady pressure, he could feel the hot damp of her arousal and the space in his already restrictive jeans seemed to lessen as his body responded. Her legs seemed to have left the floor without her realising and were wrapping strongly around him as he simultaneously hoisted her higher up the wall. Her right foot extended, hooking her toes on the edge of the dresser as she seemed to scrabble higher, rubbing herself against his body as his hands left their ministrations to attend to the bows at the side of her bikini briefs, and left her frustrated. It was as if neither of them knew where to touch when or next or for how long, so desperate where they to explore each others bodies so completely in the same instant. As his fingers fumbled with the cotton-lycra, his mouth sought the same material, hovering over her breast and drawing her in, the material still damp from his earlier efforts and vaguely tasting of the jelly he'd spread in the process. All the while, she ground against him; his pelvis, his leg, his chest, wherever her hips fell as he held her pinned. Her one hand tangled in his hair as she rained kisses over his head, holding him against her chest as he suckled on her throbbing peaks, while the other danced down his back, stroking and clutching at the skin she exposed as she pulled up his shirt. 

He lowered her slightly as his battle between successfully undoing the knotted material at her hip and his desire to taste the budded flesh that was hidden from him was won out and he decided that the bikini top had to go. Still pinned by the weight of his body, she rested one foot on tip toe and the other still on the dresser as he held her hip steady with one hand and raised the other to undo the fastening holding the bikini in place. Leaning forward to aid him, she lowered her leg, hooking it around him and clung around his neck, attaching her mouth to his as her hands roamed her back, unrestricted, under the hi-vis jacket. The seemed to spin through 180 degrees as their balance was lost and they tumbled back towards the wall, positions reversed. She stepped backwards, an elegant shrug sending the fluorescent waistcoat to the floor. The sea green material still enveloped her pert mounds, suspended from its final tie around her neck, and he moved towards her, kissing her shoulder as he stepped behind her.

A shudder seemed to run through her spine as she felt him softly but clumsily sweep her hair away and fiddle with the tight knot she'd tied and a fit of giggles ensued from both parties as she resorted to, somewhat less seductively, whipping the garment over her head instead. Still behind her, his arms reached around her stomach, pulling her flush against his body and roughly sliding his hands into the top of her briefs as he lavished attention down her neck and onto the junction with her shoulder. Her breath hitched as she wondered if his hand would keep going, but he seemed contented as he was, sucking hard against her clammy skin, grazing his teeth and tongue against her, as his fingers flirted under her pants with the neat line between the silken flesh of her mound and the straight neat line of her bikini wax. His other hand clasped at her left breast, kneading the flesh with an urgency which matched her need for him to do so. He rolled the taught nipple, dark and dusky pink with stimulation, between his thumb and first finger and she cried out at the shocks running through her and her desire for more. She stumbled as she turned; a heady combination of desire and cocktails unsteadied her footing and clouded her mind as she sought to get him in a state of undress appropriate to satisfying the urges coursing through her intoxicated mind, swimming with the images she'd been building all night. He caught her as she tripped, equally unsure of his own feet, lurching forwards with her and toppling towards the end of the mattress where her back hit the edge and he landed against her diagonally draped body.

Through their broken laughter, racking their body uncontrollably, their tongues danced as their mouths drew together. It seemed, in that moment, the most amusing and most arousing encounter either could ever remember experiencing, although in their drunken wonder at the sudden intricacies of each others bodies and their desperate bid to scramble higher up the bed, they were hardly capable of much recollection or reflection. The feel of her tugging off his mostly-open shirt silenced his laughter and commanded her attention enough for hers to cease also, as the gravity of their passion pulled them back to the moment. He was settled with his knee between her legs as her hand stroked down along his back, sliding first into his jeans and then into his underwear to grope at the flesh of his buttock, her other hand on the opposite side of his body, pushing the material down at his hip.

He was hard and fired up with desire and he groaned with frustrated anticipation at the feel of her warm hands on his ass, imagining how they would feel raking over him, nails digging in firmly as he thrust into her. His head flashed to a favourite fantasy as her hands worked at the denim and as he rolled them over to help her attempts at freeing him, his mind was full of long held images of him delicately undressing her, caressing her with a tenderness he knew he hadn't shown tonight, before laying her down and moving over her, watching her as he brought her to a shattering climax.

"I caaan..t," he slurred a little as he tried to get his brain to focus away from the friction of his jeans against his penis as she slid them down a short way. "I'm sorry."

She felt him through his cotton boxer-briefs. "I'd beg to differ. You could say, I have _hard _evidence."

"No, I mean," he rolled over and ran his hand across his face, "not like this. I think we're drunker than we think we are," he tried to explain, although he couldn't quite fathom that one himself.

"No, Harry, I think you're as drunk as I think I am. I need you to fuck me."

"No."

"Harry, Harry pleeeease." She clutched at her own breast and arched upwards provocatively. He groaned and shook his head at her and a panic set hold in her that he thought this was somehow all a big mistake. "I wanted you to love me, Harry," she trembled, and he could see the hurt in her eyes as she pawed at his face.

A rush of unchecked alcohol induced emotion rose un-bid to the surface and he felt himself moved almost to tears by the look on her face, finding himself making an impassioned declaration of his feelings which was, whilst truthful, more than a little dramatic. To his inebriated inner self, however, nothing seemed more important than a clarification of the regard in which he held her and he whispered his desire softly against the curve of her cheek as he held her to him.

"I promise you, Ruth, this isn't it. But I want us to remember it properly, and for the right reasons. I want to hold you in my arms and undress you bit by bit, kissing every part of you as I go, memorising you."

She nodded, her eyelids suddenly heavy now that both had stopped their exertions. "If you want to…if you change your mind," she brought his hand to her lower hip but he moved it away and smoothed her damp hair away from her face. "Thank you," she whispered.

He lay there a moment, before leaving the bed and tripping again as he tried to find his balance, a task not made any easier as his trousers dropped to his ankles. He kicked them off and almost stumbled again. He was fine until he moved but his eyes seemed to be on a timer delay and were having a hard time keeping up with his brain now that his primary focus was lost.

He clasped clumsily at the remnants of a bottle of wine the hen party had left in her room and padded into the bathroom to find clean glasses by the sink. "A toast," he called, excitedly, as if it was a suddenly brilliant idea. "We should toast a promise to one another."

He re-entered into the bedroom to find her already passed out on the mattress. He sat down heavily next to her, downed the two glasses full he had poured, and lay back with his arm across her.

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_**Please review - we'll try and find a way to convert reviews into funds for the filming budget!**_

_**ps: don't throw things!!  
**_


	22. Chapter 22

_**Where's everyone gone? I swear we've lost a few of you?? **_

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Ruth prised her heavy eyes open and squinted across the room as she tried to get her brain to function. As she attempted to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth, she had a sudden thought that she needed water. About a gallon of it. Locating a bottle of water on the cabinet on the other side of the room, she swung herself out of bed and staggered across the room, wincing in pain as her brain seemed to rattle about before a pounding sensation filled her senses. She drank the water greedily straight from the bottle, barely pausing for breath as she poured the liquid down her throat and consequently spilt some as it overflowed from her mouth. As it trickled down onto her chest, she hazily registered that she was half naked. Unconcerned, and now in need of another lie down, she turned back towards the bed at the exact same moment as the male occupant of it sat up clutching his head. 

"Harry!" Her voice sounded loud and squeaky to her own ears and a sense of panic overwhelmed her so much so that she dropped the water on the floor and scrabbled about for something to cover herself up with. A sudden image of her pinned to the hotel room door by him as his hands and mouth wandered over her skin swam before her eyes and made her blush.

"RUTH!" Jo's shout could be heard through the door moments before she began to knock loudly on the wood. "Ruth, wake up. You have my make up bag."

Panic stricken, the occupants of the room stared at one another. As Jo continued to knock and shout, Harry jumped out of bed and scrabbled around the floor trying to find his clothes. Following his lead, Ruth found his shirt, plastic sword and eye patch littered across the floor and, scooping them up, rushed to meet Harry who was trying to balance as he pulled his jeans on. Thrusting the bundle of belongings into his chest, not waiting to see if he had hold of them all properly, she grabbed his elbow and started to pull him towards the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, as he tried to hold his jeans up with one hand, walk and not drop anything all at the same time.

"Hiding you in here so I can get rid of her."

As he opened his mouth to say something, she was already pulling the bathroom door shut behind her. He heard a slight commotion as Ruth opened the door and Jo entered the room. Unable to figure out what was going on after that, he decided it was probably a good idea to finish getting dressed. Ten minutes later, he was still stuck in the bathroom and becoming rather impatient. He was just contemplating leaving the bathroom and telling Jo to leave so he could talk to Ruth about what had happened last night, when the door opened and she slipped inside.

"Sorry, she wants to go through some wedding stuff before breakfast. I can't even think straight but apparently it doesn't matter..." she whispered. "I'm going to take her out on to the balcony, that way you can escape and get ready for breakfast. Everyone is meeting downstairs in 45 minutes."

"Ruth, last night..."

"Was something I've wanted for a long time. I'm not totally clear on the events of last night, no more Flaming Sambucas for Ruth, but I don't regret a minute of it." Surprising him, she leaned up and kissed him sweetly.

He happily kissed her, pleased that despite the drunken state they were both in, it was something that they evidently both wanted. Reluctantly, he ended the kiss and allowed her to leave. He waited until he was sure they were both out on the balcony, before making his exit.

---

Ruth's promised 45 minutes was rapidly spiralling into much longer upstairs with Jo, as Harry, Zaf, Adam and a few others sat patiently in the dining room, waiting for the ladies to arrive. It had not gone unnoticed that neither Ros nor Malcolm was present either.

"I'm going to get breakfast," Harry mumbled. "I'm not waiting anymore."

"Hangover munchies," Adam and Zaf said in unison.

"Either that or he's worked up an appetite," said Zaf, with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Harry glared at him and stalked over to the hot buffet.

"Do you think they did it?" whispered Zaf, conspiratorially.

"Course they did, mate. They were all over each other. Short of a bout of the old brewer's droop there's no way there weren't at it like crazy."

"Really? But Ruth was in quite a state. He wouldn't, you know, take advantage."

"Nah, she wanted him too, I'm sure." Adam looked at Zaf, who was now wearing a slightly pained expression. "I bet she'd have been just as up for it if not more. The old devil was probably fighting her off. It never fails to amaze me how much attention he gets. And seriously, Zaf, what's the matter with your face?"

Zaf didn't answer; there was nothing he could say, only to keep staring ahead into the middle distance. Slowly, Adam turned around and a petite brunette was fleeing the restaurant with the bride-to-be in tow.

"Oh shit," he mumbled.

---

"Ruth? Ruth?" Jo was forced to grab the older woman's shoulder and hold her upright just so she could talk to her.

"I'm such an idiot."

"Because you slept with the man you're in love with? Because people know you and Harry are together? That doesn't make you an idiot, Ruth. It just makes you human. Everyone does it. I know you're fiercely private, but a lot of alcohol was consumed last night, and I'm sure you and Harry won't be the only story. I happen to know that Malcolm and Ros are yet to be seen, and that Ben was duped into dancing on stage with a very feminine looking man in three inch heels and a basque."

"I didn't sleep with him," she sobbed. "He didn't want to."

Jo looked at her, disbelievingly.

"I- I couldn't remember everything before. I thought we had…you know. I- I just a-assumed b-but, w-what they said, they were right, I came on to him and I remember him saying he wouldn't. Oh God, I'm such an idiot. I even thanked him this morning."

"What exactly did he say?" she asked, ignoring the fact that she must have been harbouring him earlier.

"I d-don't re-remember," she sniffed. "But he didn't want me, oh God." Visions of her trying to convince him to sleep with her were all she could remember, and she was desperate to gain more pieces of what happened in order to make things make sense, but she couldn't do that without talking to Harry.

---

Harry returned with a plate full of food a few moments later and found that everyone was staring at him. "What's the matter?" he asked curtly, allowing his tone of voice to warn his young charges that he was not in the mood to be ridiculed.

"Nothing," Adam said quickly, before hastily walking over to the buffet, leaving Zaf to fend for himself.

"Zaf? Care to tell me why you have a horrified expression on your face and keep looking at the door?"

He was torn between loyalty to Adam and the knowledge that Ruth was probably crying somewhere nearby. He thought about Jo and knew that if she was upset somewhere he'd want to know about it. "It's Ruth..." he instantly had Harry's full attention and, had he not been so worried about the imminent display of Pearce temper they were about to witness, he would have thought it sweet.

"What about Ruth?"

"She's upset. Actually, I think distraught is a more accurate description." He winced as Harry swore loudly and other diners began to look at them.

Zaf tried to explain what had happened but Harry wasn't listening, all he could think about was how stupid he was not to have talked things through with her this morning. He was that busy cursing himself and setting off to find her that he almost missed Zaf's next words.

"I'll get Adam to apologise Harry."

He stopped in his tracks and spun to face the younger man. "What did he say to her?"

"I just told you! She got upset when she heard him say that he thought you'd have been fighting her off."

Harry's face took on a pained expression as he realised exactly what Ruth must have thought when she heard that. He had to find her and try to explain. "I'll deal with Adam later," he growled and stalked out of the dining room.

Twenty minutes later, he walked back into the breakfast room, his temper in full swing as he seethed first at the situation, then at Adam and finally about the fact that he couldn't find her.

"Alright Harry?" Adam asked, as nonchalantly as he could.

"Don't 'alright Harry' me! You know damned well I'm not and nor is Ruth, not that I can find her anywhere!"

"Oh, yeah about that I am sorry. I didn't mean for her to hear..."

"You shouldn't have been discussing it in the first place. What happens between Ruth and I is private and not available for discussion or speculation. As her friend you should know how protective she is of her personal life."

Adam opened his mouth to retaliate but was kicked in the shin by Zaf. "I'll apologise to her later."

"Make sure you do."

"As much fun as this is, I'm getting married in a few hours. The girl's will probably be having nails or hair done, so can we please go and make sure that everything is sorted for the wedding and worry about everything else later?"

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_**Please review - remember the filming budget!**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**We're going for 300 ;o)  
**_

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''Jo," she whispered. "Do you think I can be excused for a little bit?" They were outside on the beach preparing for the evening ceremony. Jo was looking slightly frantic at the impracticalities of such a last minute wedding but, the way Ruth saw it, everything was in place; all she was doing was dictating where each white chair and every orchid bouquet needed to be, and literally changing their positions by millimetres. Ruth knew she was being no help; her mind was firmly elsewhere and she was finally feeling strong enough to contemplate actually talking to Harry about last night.

"Of course, but if you're looking for Harry I don't think you'll find him. Zaf was on for going into the resort to buy some small wedding favours we saw when we went shopping earlier in the week. He said he'd keep everyone out of the way while the 'experts'," she made air quotes and rolled her eyes, "oversaw the final details. They're not coming back til the rehearsal at noon."

''I-, I...can I...how am I supposed to walk down the aisle with Adam and then stand opposite Harry if I can't talk to them, to him first?" she groaned, an almost hysterical edge to her voice.

Jo put her arm around her sympathetically. "Ruth, come and sit down." She pointed to the back row of white, wooden chairs. "I know you were too confused and upset to talk this morning, but please tell me what happened. It'll go to the grave with me, I swear."

Ruth flushed scarlet in the bright sunlight and stared at the ground as if trying to count every grain of sand beneath her bare feet. "We were," Ruth swallowed hard, "you know?"

"Fumbling?" Jo asked.

Ruth nodded, furiously. "And it was, well my memory is a little fuzzy, but everything I remember was amazing."

"And then what?"

"He stopped and said he wouldn't carry on."

"Why?"

"I don't know. All I remember was trying to convince him otherwise," she mumbled, and it became clear to Jo that, despite the fact that the brunette was still steadfastly staring at the floor, she was softly crying. "I'm such an idiot. I _really_ thought we both wanted the same things. We even…we even said we'd wait until we go home, but then we'd be a couple." She wiped her hand under her nose and attempted to dry her eyes. "God, I make a pathetic sight."

Jo reached into the tiny denim shorts she was wearing and pulled a clamshell phone from her pocket and started typing something.

"Please don't do anything," Ruth sighed. "I already feel like I'm back at school with all this speculation."

"I'm not going to say anything to Harry. I just want to know if Zaf's heard anything and see if I can get them back here sooner so you can clear this up."

Ruth shrugged as if to say 'whatever', and impatiently waited for Jo to receive a reply.

_It's a 10 on the PTS. Think he's convinced he's lost Ruth. Should we come back? Love you sexy, can't wait to see you lata xxx _

"PTS?" Ruth asked, as Jo held the reply in front of her.

"Pearce Temper Scale," Jo laughed. "I think Zaf and Adam coined it last time they got caught using office stationary for paper planes."

Ruth gave a soft laugh.

"If he thinks he's lost you, it would seem to indicate there's a little more to this story than him not wanting you, Ruth. Do you want me to tell them to come back?"

The brunette nodded. "Got to bite the bullet, haven't it?"

"Yes, sweetie, you have." Jo hugged her, and stood up. "And in the meantime, you can tell me all about how fabulous you're going to look at the rehearsal, and how you're going to knock him dead."

Ruth muttered something in embarrassment and followed Jo out of the aisle of seats. "I still can't believe you're leaving the rehearsal til now. Not worried about superstition?"

"Well, I won't be in my dress. Besides, don't you ever really feel the gritty realism of our job makes that all a bit null and void?"

---

"Why are we still here?" Harry asked, impatiently, as he checked his watch for the fourth time in the last three and a half minutes. Why Zaf had insisted on them all traipsing into town to buy wedding favours, he had no idea. All he knew that was with every passing minute he felt that Ruth was slipping further from him. Their first night together should have been perfect and he was so angry with himself for it getting this messed up that he was taking it out on everyone else.

"It won't be much longer Harry," the groom stated, trying his best to appease his boss. "As soon as they've boxed all the favours we can go. Why don't you go round the lads up from next door? Jo'll kill me if we all turn up reeking of beer."

Glad to have something practical to do, not least something which would help get him to Ruth a bit sooner, Harry left the shop and walked into the bar next door. He groaned at the sight in front of him and wondered why the stag party was having some sort of stand off with what he could only assume was the group of Mexican drag queens they had encountered last night. If he hadn't have been so worried that the entire male side of the wedding party were going to get themselves arrested, he probably would have found the whole thing amusing. He could make out Ben and Ed arguing with a very feminine looking man, who was shaking his finger at them dramatically and gibbering at them in rapid Spanish

"What the hell is going on?" he had to shout above the din to make himself heard but the no-nonsense tone brought everyone up sharp and silence rang throughout the bar. The silence lasted for all of 30 seconds before both groups were trying to tell him at once what the problem was.

"Enough!" he roared, and glared at the groomsmen. "Zaf will be ready in two minutes. Go and wait outside, all of you."

There was a momentary battle of wills before Ben decided that the older man was just a bit too scary to argue with and walked towards the exit. The rest of them filed out behind him, heads hung low like naughty school boys.

Turning back to the other group, Harry put on his most charming smile, "Ladies, ah, Senoras mis apologias."

Not waiting for a reply, he followed the group outside and tried to spot Zaf.

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_**Please review - remember the filming budget!**_


	24. Chapter 24

_**Happy Birthday to Jess (aka Ros//Sparkly Sequins).**_

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"Where are they?" Ruth flapped. "They should be here. You text them over an hour ago," she looked at her watch. "Two hours ago!" She was crossing back and forth across Jo's small room, and had been for ages now, waiting for a knock at the door which would signal the men's return.

"Ruth, will you calm down, please. I don't know where they are, but I'm sure they'll be here," Jo said, roughly. In truth, Ruth's constant pacing and worrying was setting her on edge. The fact that Zaf had not turned up yet was beginning to worry her, although contrary to Ruth's voicing that 'they could be lying in a ditch somewhere, hurt', Jo's mind had gone for the slightly more logical but no less upsetting 'he's going to bolt before the wedding' tack.

"What if they…no. Or if they…no!!" Ruth could be heard muttering, over and over to herself as she sat herself down on the bed and mumbled quietly to no one.

"Ruth!"

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Clare?" Jo asked, flicking her phone open and closed for the umpteenth time. "Can you go and check reception for messages, and take Ruth, please."

Clare extended her hand in a beckoning motion to Ruth, who fidgeted as she followed her out of the room, smoothing out creases from the pretty sun dress she'd chosen to slip on for the run through.

---

"Go straight down to the beach," Zaf yelled, running up the hotel driveway panting and trying to read his phone at the same time. "I'll go and get Jo. She's gonna kill me!"

"Sorry mate," shouted Ben, "although, actually, blame Ed for landing me on stage with the lot of them last night."

"Enough!" shouted Harry again. He was hot, tired and fed up, and still felt like throttling the blonde spook ten paces ahead of him; all he wanted to do was talk to Ruth and instead he was rushing in 40 degree heat to make it to a wedding rehearsal which should have began 15 minutes ago.

The groomsmen and the groom separated and Zaf disappeared into the cool, air conditioned lobby.

"Come on!!" he urged, under his breath, repeatedly pushing the button for the life. "Come on, come on, come on. Argh, fuck!" He ran for the stairs as the numbers above the aluminium door seemingly stopped on every floor from 6 onwards and he couldn't wait any longer.

Taking them two at a time, beads of sweat began to form on his forehead and even for all his training he couldn't manage 5 floors at such a speed in such heat. He paused for a breather and picked up the pace again.

"Drag queen…fight…Harry…stopped…argument…late…so sorry…sorry…beach…waiting…sorry!" he panted, breathlessly, as he burst through the door to a gaggle of women, including his bride to be.

Jo looked at him cockeyed a moment, head hung to one side, expression flickering somewhere between overwhelming relief and utter outrage at his appearance and tardiness. "I don't think I want to know," she said, shaking her head. "Ring your sister. She's in reception looking for you." She didn't bother to specify which sister, and Zaf was forced to take in the occupants of the room to figure it out.

---

"Not that I feel that I can actually trust you with Ruth's welfare and feelings," Harry began, as he stood across from Adam, appraising him icily, "I fear I won't have time to speak to her before the rehearsal kicks off, so if you could please ask her to wait for me afterwards, I'd appreciate it."

"Yes," Adam nodded, solemnly.

"And see to your apology as well."

"I will, I-" His planned attempt at a renewed request for forgiveness was quashed by the commotion heading down the beach in a flurry of noise and short skirts, flanked by a sweaty looking, worn out Zaf.

Harry managed to pick out a petite figure at the back, hanging deliberately behind all the hullabaloo and trying to remain out of sight. She looked beautiful, but a little bit broken, and he could tell even from a distance that her face held worry and upset. His feet moved across the sand a few paces to try and single her out of the crowd for just a moment, but Zaf had already began to take charge, apologising and organising all at once.

"I'm sorry I was so insensitive," Adam said, linking Ruth's arm. She was looking at him with mistrust in her eyes, and wondered herself that she had not made an attempt to snatch the limb away. If it were not for the fact that she was the last person to enjoy causing a scene, she probably would have done. "I had no idea you were there, but that doesn't excuse me from being childish and laddish. What goes on in your private life is yours to divulge or keep secret."

"Have you any idea how humiliating that was? How hurtful?" she hissed under her breath as they began to proceed down the aisle to the music.

"I really am genuinely sorry, Ruth."

She gave him a sad sort of smile, the undertone of which told him he was an impossible person to stay mad at for long.

"Harry wants to see you afterwards," he whispered, and squeezed her arm.

Ruth blanched a little and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and nothing else. If she could make it up the aisle, then that was something, she decided. Unfortunately, she hadn't counted on her eyes snapping up to find Harry stood opposite when she finally managed to lift her head; his gaze bore into hers and as the ceremony started, she could hardly focus on a second of it.

It seemed to whiz by in a flurry of repeated phrases by the bride and groom and lilting intonations from the Mexican vicar and, before Ruth knew it, they were drawing the ceremony to its close and she was having to force herself to pay more attention.

"Oh babe, I know I promised I wouldn't kiss you today until the real thing, but –" Zaf stopped and placed a heavy, wet kiss on a baffled looking Jo. "I'm sorry about earlier." Jo pulled him back to her, prepared this time, and parted her mouth as his tongue swept inside and woops and hollers went up from some of the younger members of the wedding party.

The couple remained blissfully unaware of their surroundings as the rest began to walk back down the aisle, the practice over and relatively well done.

"Oh God, I feel sick," Ruth whispered to Jo's mum, who shot her a confused look. Ruth smiled sheepishly when she realised that the poor woman had no clue as to the events of the previous 12 hours. "Er...too much sun," she mumbled, trying to remove any insinuation that Jo and Zaf's continuing display of affection was the cause for her nausea. Jo's mum just patted her hand and walked away and Ruth stopped dead in her tracks at the end of the aisle.

What did she do? She knew that she was expected in the salon 20 minutes ago, and that the rest of the afternoon would see the men and women apart until the ceremony, but Adam had explicitly asked her to wait for Harry. She wanted to hear what he had to say, she really did, but right now she wasn't sure whether to just plod through the real ceremony as she'd managed to do for this one, or risk making things worse rather than better.

Her decision was made by a soft voice behind her.

"Ruth," he breathed; it came out as a rough, throaty sort of sound.

She studied her feet intently and picked at the edges of her nails. He reached out a hand to her lower arm and let it rest there.

"I can't…stop. I've got to…I wish you'd come even ten minutes earlier," she whispered, still not daring to look up.

"I know. I'm sorry. Later," he said, watching her until her gaze lifted. "I promise."

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_**Please review - remember the filming budget!**_


	25. Chapter 25

**_Here we go again... _**

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As she smoothed down the light floaty material of her bridesmaid dress, Ruth chanced a look in the mirror and was quite pleased with what she saw. She was very grateful to Jo for the tasteful elegance of the long halter neck she now wore; it was certainly better than the peach monstrosity she had had to wear the last time she was a bridesmaid. Her hair and make up were finished and she had even managed to smile for the occasion; knowing that Harry wanted to talk to her later had been a slight reassurance that, perhaps, all was not lost between them. As the door to the bathroom opened and Jo made her grand entrance into the roomful of squealing bridesmaids, Ruth couldn't help but gasp.

"Oh Jo, you look beautiful," Ruth sighed and smiled genuinely at her friend.

The bride to be smiled and enjoyed the attention as they all gushed and cooed over the exquisitely designed gown she was wearing. The style was almost casual considering it was a wedding dress but the cut of the material and the way it moved made it appear as if Jo glided rather than walked. It was a floor length gown but she demonstrated the ease with which she could scoop it for when they walked on the beach. She had completed her look with no shoes, just as the bridesmaids had, having announced early on that wedding shoes and salt water would not mix, and it made her look young and relaxed.

Jo's mother fussed around her a moment more and then gave into temptation and squeezed the girl in a big hug as tears collected in her eyes.

"It's time to go sweetheart. I'll let your Dad in now."

Jo nodded and, taking their cue from Mrs Portman, the bridesmaids filed out after her and headed downstairs, leaving Ruth with Jo until her Father arrived to escort her.

"You ok?" Jo asked as soon as they were alone.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're the one about to get married!"

"I'm not nervous anymore, so I know I must be doing the right thing." She smiled happily as Ruth gave her arm a gentle squeeze, "So, are you ok?"

"I am. We, er, we're going to talk later, he promised we would."

"Good, that way I don't have to kill my boss on my wedding day for daring to upset my best friend!"

They both burst into giggles at the idea and were still laughing when Jo's dad arrived.

---

Jo's dad offered her his arm as the opening bars of Four Seasons, Spring, sounded and, almost as one, the guests stood and turned to catch a glimpse of the Bride. Zaf waited expectantly as the end of the aisle and didn't know whether to laugh or cry with joy as he saw his beautiful bride appear at the other end. Time seemed to speed up and slow down all at once as she locked eyes with him, she had to remind herself several times to breathe as emotion threatened to overwhelm her at the sight of him. Before she knew it, she was stood by his side, gazing up at him and taking his hand as he offered it to her. His low whisper that she looked amazing made her smile and she couldn't help but chuckle as he winked cheekily at her.

The ceremony was over quite quickly, the Bride and Groom having decided that they didn't want their guests to pass out in the heat whilst they made lengthy vows to one another. Instead, they kept it simple yet meaningful, and, as they both made their vows solemnly, no-one was in doubt regarding the depth of love the happy couple shared. The registrar pronounced them husband and wife and as they shared their first matrimonial kiss the guests clapped and the band began to play. Moments later, Zaf and Jo were shepherded out on to the beach by the photographer, leaving the guests and the rest of the bridal party to mingle and drink the first glasses of champagne that had begun to circulate.

Ruth wasn't aware that Adam had left his position beside her until it was filled by an all too familiar face. Harry silently passed her a glass of champagne as she tried to pretend that she wasn't affected by his presence. He sipped his champagne and made no effort to hide the fact that he was watching her.

Ruth fiddled nervously with the ruched empire line of her dress, aware of his eyes on her. "I, er," she swallowed.

He allowed his eyes to roam over her and he was amazed how much of her he craved to absorb in a single instant. She looked incredible, the thin cotton hanging from her curves in all the right places, yet tight where the halter neck tied, causing her breasts to sit provocatively high. The tones of the rich red and purple delicate paisley print seemed to mirror the light from the sunset which was now behind her, lighting the gold of her tan. The edges frilled out in layers and flirted with the sand and the tips of her toes.

"You look beautiful, Ruth." His words were spoken so quietly but she heard them and allowed herself a moment to bask in the sincerity of his words before turning to face him.

"Thanks," she was only capable of a whisper, "you look good too, Harry."

"Can we talk?"

She nodded and allowed her fingers to brush against his briefly. "After the photographs though, I promised Jo I wouldn't disappear."

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_**Please leave us a review. Contrary to belief, we aren't teasing you, merely trying to write an interesting plot. xx**_


	26. Chapter 26

_**More - yey! But it's nearing the end **__** (although, you know, consider how long it took to get started...there are a good few chapters left!) **_

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Flashbulbs sparked and blazed against the brilliant red sunset as the last of the photos – just Zaf and Jo again now – were taken against the backdrop of the glittering ocean, and Ruth wandered over to where a long white table was laid on the sand, spread with champagne, punch and a cold buffet. The DJ, who had been setting up by the pool, was just testing the sound, and in the glow of the evening sun, things could barely have looked more perfect.

She strode over to the area flanked by chairs which had been unofficially cordoned into a dance floor, and perched on a white seat, scanning the milling faces. He wasn't there, at least not immediately visible to her, and she felt disappointed and relieved all at once. The first record slipped on, and Zaf and Jo, finally released from being photographed, took the floor to the floating melody of Jack Johnson's _Better Together_. Ruth watched them, entranced, as each song bled into the next and as the tunes got louder and cheesier, the dance floor filled with people, both guests of the wedding and, it seemed, anyone around the pool area they fancied letting join them.

"I want to make things up to you, Ruth," a voice whispered, behind her. "Would asking you to dance make things worse or better?"

She gave a soft laugh. "Well seeing as he's not around, you can give it a shot," she replied.

Adam extended a hand to her and pulled her to her feet and into his arms. "I'm so sorry, Ruth. I really am." He let the hug linger a while before releasing her and watching for a reaction.

"You're an oaf, you know that? I just hope your feet aren't as clumsy as your mouth."

He picked up her hand and waited expectantly for her to twirl beneath it, which she did with a flare of the long skirt of her dress. _Tiger Feet_ was blaring out and both of them managed to co-ordinate their feet into the clumsy walk of the dance, Ruth allowing herself to relax for the first time all day as the atmosphere of the place washed over her. She laughed, riotously, as Zaf and Jo danced over to them so they faced inwards as a square, and the boys attempted ridiculous, co-ordinated, tiger growls at the girls each time the word _tiger_ came into the song. Jo had grabbed Ruth's hands and was punching the air with them at every "that's right" and simultaneously trying not to die laughing at the sight of her new spouse and his best friend making claw gestures at the pair of them.

By the time the song finished, her jaw and sides physically ached from the laughter and she was, to her amazement, pleased to find that the crazy tunes kept on coming. _The Locomotion_ had never really been her cup of tea, but to see Zaf, Ben, Edward and Robert accost Malcolm and force him into a line up of train-inspired dance moves for the amusement of their female counterparts was hilarious. Even Ros cracked a smile.

"I'm not one of Kylie's backing dancers, but can we talk?"

Ruth jumped at the quiet voice directly in her ear, and snapped her head round from the entertainment. She nodded, briefly but fervently, and tried not to laugh at his comment.

He dared himself to take her hand, but she had already done the same and slipped her hand around his wrist as they negotiated their way to the edge of the dance floor, walking aimlessly across the beach.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

She shrugged, noncommittally, but it wasn't defensive. Just honest. "Better for a bit of light entertainment, I suppose."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?"

She laughed, and he was glad that she at least seemed to feel relatively easy around him compared to earlier.

"I think I know what happened," he continued, his tone reduced to a more serious one, although his voice was still soft. She looked momentarily surprise and he knew she was about to ask 'how?'. "Well I am a trained spy, Ruth," he said, with a hint of a smirk. "Plus Zaf's actually quite easy to bully."

"Harry!" She focused on reprimanding his behaviour rather than acknowledging what he knew.

"You heard Adam say I'd have been fighting you off and put 2 and 2 together to get about 75, didn't you?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

"Ruth," he murmured, and it was barely a purr above the pulse of the music. He tugged her into a sitting position as they claimed the edge of a pool lounger. "How much do you remember? Honestly."

She flushed, and even in the moonlight and the yellow glow of the flaming torches which were positioned on the beach he could see it. He wondered if it was embarrassment at the lack of recollection, or embarrassment of _what_ she could remember.

"Bits and bobs. Good bits and bobs," she clarified, "except you stopped, and all I can remember is asking you not to. Not why, or anything like that. Just stopping."

"That sounds about right," he replied, and for a minute Ruth wondered if that was supposed to make her feel better, but he continued. "I did call a halt to the proceedings, so to speak, but I had my reasons. I gave them to you before you passed out," he teased, gently. Part of him wanted her to ask him directly what they were, rather than just proffering them in some justification of the hellish day they'd had.

"Oh," she sighed. The tone didn't hold a question, but her eyes when she finally forced herself to look at him did.

"I wanted to remember our first time for the right reasons. To make love to you. Properly. Not drunken sex; as amazing as last night felt at the time, it wasn't how I imagined things might go." He saw her visibly draw a large breath in, and lowered his voice in her ear. "And I _have_ imagined it."

She closed her eyes against the contented smile and suffusing heat his confession had elicited in her, and when she opened them again, his lips were inches from hers.

"I'm such an idiot."

"Yes," he muttered, "you are. My idiot," and he brushed his warm mouth against hers. It was brief but loaded with feeling, and when he pulled back she leant forward and pressed her lips to his again before snuggling against his shoulder and just letting herself absorb this new found contentment.

"I'll hold you to your vision, then," she whispered. It was almost lazy, but the hand she placed at the top of his thigh told him it wasn't said carelessly.

"Good," he purred, and linked his fingers through the hand which had rested on his leg. "And it will happen when it happens." He felt her nod against his arm and they drifted into a comfortable silence.

"Harry?" she asked, a little while later.

"Yes?" His arm was around her, bent awkwardly, but not uncomfortably, so that his fingers played with a loose tendril of her hair.

"Have I finally lost it, or is that Malcolm's Hawaiian shirt heading up the line of people doing _Oops Upside You Head_?"

"I'm not watching the dance floor," he muttered, and she blushed at his implication.

"Well do," she admonished, lightly. "You're missing quite the spectacle."

"I've got a better idea. Why don't we go and show our faces, and I can finally dance with you."

"I don't think it's your music," she whispered.

"Never mind, the company will compensate, I'm sure," he said, and parted her waiting lips with the tip of his tongue.

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_**Please leave a review - it makes it all worth it xx **_


	27. Chapter 27

**Since we don't have too long until I am due to have a baby -eep- we figured we'd better get a shuffle on and post more!**

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The Macarena was playing by the time they approached, and several pairs of eyes watched their arrival with intrigue, but they ignored the questions in their glances and tried to look busy with the dance. This, however, was something achieved far more successfully by Ruth, who actually seemed to have a clue, than Harry who, she was both amused and alarmed to note, looked like he was having a fit.

She snorted as she tried to swallow down the laugh which was building, and failed anyway as he began to imitate their fellow dancers and gyrate his hips. She gently and patiently took his hand and tried to guide him through the stages as the beat thumped out, but his coordination seemed lacking against the tempo. Daring to face the barrage of questions later, she moved behind him, and wrapped her arms around his frame, holding onto his forearms and trying to stop laughing long enough to control his limbs and also savour the moment of being pressed so close. His chest was firm, and swelled regularly with his breathing as she brought his arms across his body to his shoulders and it was all she could do to stop herself from letting go of his hands and letting her fingers work between the gaps in his shirt instead. She was aware that people were looking, but she was determined not to let that stop her, and reminded herself that this was nothing compared to last night's display. It was a little bit late for hiding things.

If she didn't know better, she could have sworn Harry was deliberately being a slow learner just to draw the contact out longer, having still not fathomed it entirely by the closing beats of the tune. She let go as it faded to nothing, and he turned to face her.

"I think I might need private tuition," he whispered, as he leant forward to catch her ear.

She laughed, and lingered in the shuffling silence that always accompanied a change in records.

"This one goes out to Ruth and Harry, from all their friends," the DJ announced, slipping on Brian Adam's _Let's Make __A__ Night to Remember_.

Ruth cringed and laughed as she buried her forehead against Harry's shirt, trying desperately to compose herself and avoid a fit of nervous giggles if she met someone's eye. His elbows rested on her shoulders as he wrapped his arms in a protective circle around her neck, and bowed to place a soft kiss in her hair.

Whoops and hollers went up from the various factions of the dance floor who actually knew them…and, she dared fancy, several who didn't. She wrinkled her nose up and creased her eyes as she chewed down a smile and tentatively looked up at him. He was laughing at her, but there was incredible love in his eyes. Slowly, she snaked her hand up behind his neck and pulled his mouth to hers, laughing into the kiss at the sheer ridiculous giddiness of it all.

His hands locked around her waist and his feet began to sway them to a steady rhythm as their tongues seemed to move in time to the beat. When they pulled away, noses touching, their audience had long since grown bored of watching, and now only an occasional glance from their closest of friends filtered their way, regarding them with soft eyes and proud faces.

"I thought you said I wouldn't enjoy the music," he murmured.

"Scoundrel," she muttered back.

"You love it."

"Yes. I do."

"I can't help having slightly impish thoughts, Ruth."

"Impish?" she giggled.

"Fine. Impure. Less than chaste."

"And w-what were you thinking then?" she managed to ask.

"I was thinking about you pinned to your bedroom wall, grinding against me as I tried to unfasten your bikini bottoms..."

"Oh God."

"You couldn't get enough of me Ruth, and I was desperate to touch you, to feel your skin against mine and to taste every inch of your body..." he heard the tell-tale hitch in her breathing and smiled to himself. "Truth be told, I still am."

They glided delicately over the sand, moving to the rhythm of the music, cheek to cheek and wrapped in each others embrace. His heart beat hard and fast in his chest as he felt her almost imperceptible nod against him. Smiling softly, he closed his eyes and tightened his hold on her; whilst part of him wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her out of the reception he had enough reason left to see that the previous nights escapades had caused enough of a scene. They swayed unhurriedly, waiting for the song to finish before melting into the crowd and walking away from the beach hand in hand.

Anticipation hung between them as she fumbled with the key card, her shaking hands refusing to co-operate properly. She swore under her breath, steadied herself to try again but then dropped the card all together as he swept the hair from her neck and kissed his way down the smooth expanse of creamy skin.

"I…I," she found herself unable to speak properly as she attempted to tell him that she needed to get the key card if they were to get inside, but his hand crept around her and fingers brushed across the top of her thigh through her thin dress. "Card," she managed to pant, no more than a rasp of breath.

He bent down behind her, trailing his fingers down her leg as he went and placing a kiss behind her knee as he picked up the rectangle of plastic. He stood behind her again, brushing his body against hers as he rose.

"Shall we?" The door swung open as he swiped.

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**The smutfest is due to start in the next chapter...there's only one way to get to that...you know the drill, leave a review and we'll post it!**


	28. Chapter 28

**This chapter is full of adult content, so if you're too young to read it or that type of thing offends you please don't read it. **

**Thanks to people who gave help with the French and German translations. **

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She turned around and kissed him; hot, passion filled, wet, open-mouthed kisses which pulled away a little so that he followed her over the threshold just to keep contact. His hands wound and twisted into her hair to stop her backward-pacing and pulled her mouth right against his as he consumed her. Their chests shuddered and thundered together where they met and never before had she felt so much as if she wished she could climb inside his skin just to get closer to him. Her hands pawed at his back, tugging his shirt and exploring muscle beneath.

"I love you," he whispered. He had broken the kiss and was freeing the small clip from her hair as he spoke directly into her ear. "And I want to make up for last night."

She felt a rush of heat pool at the now returning memories and at his soft spoken words, not least the feel of his lips against her ear lobe.

"Take off your shirt." If he was surprised by her soft spoken command, he didn't show it, and began to fiddle with the top buttons and she worked to meet him from the bottom. She moved flattened palms reverently up his chest and pushed the smooth cotton away from him, pressing kisses into his skin as she did so.

She stepped back, although by barely a foot, and lifted her hair a little and turned around. He needed no invitation, and softly placed his lips to her shoulder blade as he undid the halter fastening, flowing material falling away, pushed to the ground by her hands when it stopped at her hips. She returned to face him, resplendent and unashamed in her semi-nudity.

"If very hazy memories serve me right, this puts us somewhere back to last night," she murmured, and sucked her lips between her teeth, smiling.

"It's so much better than last night," he whispered, reaching out and trailing the tips of his fingers over the swell of her right breast, "I'll be able to remember every touch, every taste of your skin and every moan of my name."

"Harry..." she breathed softly, unable to suppress the shudder that went through her body at his words and the feel of his thumb brushing deliberately over her hardened nipple.

He pulled her to him until they were pressed against one another, bare skin meeting bare skin and the feel of her heart beating against the warmth of his chest. His head lowered and she met him half way for a kiss, their lips massaging together as their tongues danced erotically with each other. His large hands roamed over the small of her back, leaving a tingling trail behind as he moved them lower still and cupped her bum. There was a mutual groan of desire as she rolled her hips forward and ground against his evident arousal and her mind was suddenly filled with the notion of getting him out of his clothing as quickly as possible. Her hands fumbled first with the buckle of his belt and then with his zip but she somehow managed to get them unfastened without moving more than a centimetre away from him. He kissed her hard as his trousers fell to the floor and pooled around his feet. The feel of her hand dipping teasingly under the line of his boxer shorts had him moving and she found herself lifted from the floor and being carried towards the bed.

In his haste he stumbled over his trousers and they landed in an ungainly heap on the bed, she had managed to get herself fully on the bed where as he had landed with his head resting on her stomach. Her small giggles of laughter turned to soft sighs as he placed a series of kisses across her quivering stomach and took his time exploring the canvas of creamy flesh laid out before him. He made his way up her body slowly, leaving a teasing trail of wet kisses between the valley of her breasts and smiling into her skin when she swore under her breath at him for teasing her. His body draped over hers and she rubbed her foot along his calf as he nibbled on her earlobe.

"Ti quiero, mi amore," he whispered, as his lips sought hers again.

"You do know what it means! Since when do you speak Spanish?"

"I asked around. I could have told you in German, but it doesn't have the same ring to it."

" Ach ich weiss nicht Harry, eine andere Zunge zu beherrschen kann manchmal sehr aufregend sein."

"Are you making innuendo at me in German, Ruth?"

"Peut-être, pourquoi ? Tu préfères que je parle français ?"

"The German's fine, Ruth. Just don't expect my level of respect for you to hold if you resort to Frankfurter and Bratwurst jokes."

"Bon, il vaudrait peut-être mieux que je parle français après tout. Seulement ne me demande pas de ne pas mentionner de ta baguette"

She laughed uncontrollably as she said her last sentence, the sound of French and her enjoyment combining together into a strangely wonderful concoction.

"That's it, Ruth. My respect has gone. You'd better start earning it again if I were you."

"And how, Harry," she asked, with a kiss behind his left ear, "am I," she broke off and nipped his ear lobe, "to do that?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something." He murmured as she raised a hand to his chest and pushed him over onto his back.

She smiled at him mischievously before lowering her head to his neck and proceeding to kiss and lick her way down his body. She left no patch of skin unexplored as her fingers and mouth roamed his broad chest, before moving lower to his stomach. Her tongue circled his belly button as her fingers worked underneath his straining boxer shorts and started to tug them off. Harry raised his hips to help her but lost control of his actions as her kisses moved to follow the line of hair from his naval to his groin. His whole body jerked against the mattress as her warm breath washed over him seconds before he felt the unmistakable thrill of her tongue swirling lightly over the tip of him. Her hair tickled his thighs as she teased him with her mouth, alternating flicks of her tongue with small sucks. Despite his best efforts to remain still his hips bucked as she took him fully in her mouth and as her teeth scraped lightly down the length of him, she heard him swear loudly.

He moaned her name and reached for her, intending to draw her back up his body but she batted his hands away and determinedly carried on. She moved her tongue around the tip of him, driving him closer to the edge as she drew a pattern known only to her. His mumbles had reduced to incoherent moans and groans of encouragement and she felt giddy and powerful at being able to reduce him to this state. The final thread of his tenuous control snapped when she slid her mouth over him at the same time as she cupped her hand against him firmly. He came with a loud shout as the ecstasy of the moment rushed through his veins, his body moved of its own accord, writhing and bucking as she gave him every second of pleasure that she could. His head landed with a soft thud against the pillows as he lay back panting and tried to regain some form of composure. He trembled slightly as she moved up his body and took him into her arms. His smile was soft as she brushed tender kisses against his temple and waited for him to come back to earth.

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**Translations:**

(Sp)"I want you, my love," he whispered, as his lips sought hers again.

"You do know what it means! Since when do you speak Spanish?"

"I asked around. I could have told you in German, but it doesn't have the same ring to it."

(Ger)"Oh, I don't know, Harry. Sometimes it can be exciting to control another tongue (language)."

"Are you making innuendo at me in German, Ruth?"

(Fr)"Maybe, why? Would you prefer me to speak French?"

"The German's fine, Ruth. Just don't expect my level of respect for you to hold if you resort to Frankfurter and Bratwurst jokes."

(Fr)"Well maybe I'd better speak French after all. Just don't expect me not to mention your baguette."

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**There is, obviously, more smut to come. Please leave a review and we'll happily post the next section!**


	29. Chapter 29

**_Penultimate chapter now (sniff)_**

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His eyes flickered open lazily as his breathing returned to a more regular rhythm, and he finally felt at least partially composed once more. His smile was lazy and contented, but his voice purred at her as his mouth buried itself against her skin.

"Have I told you lately you're amazing?" She felt the vibration of his lips against the skin of her cheek and she tilted her head so their mouths aligned and she slipped her tongue between his lips, eager to mix the different tastes of him like a heady cocktail of lust.

"Actions speak louder than words," she whispered. Her hand, as it had been for an indeterminable time, was tracing unhurried patterns over the expanse of flesh between his navel and the hair which lay lower down his body, and he was very aware of her leg hooked over his thigh as her body moulded to his side.

"That would be the least subtle hint I think you've ever given," he laughed and ran his outstretched fingers possessively over her hip.

He pulled her on top of him and used the momentum to roll them over completely so that he hovered just above her with mischief and desire in his eyes.

"I never told you I loved you too," she smiled, and brought his head down to meet her lips. Their tongues tangled unhurriedly, tip flicking against tip, lip sucking against lip, until they built it to more and more passionate kisses and her body began to grind against his.

His mouth broke away, following her jaw, down her neck and to a cluster of freckles which the sun had brought out on her shoulders.

She sighed as he did so, but the movements of her body told him this was not enough and his trail of warm, wet kisses snaked lower and his tongue darted over the curve of her left breast, taking time and attention to discover exactly what made her whimper with delight.

''Oh God!" Her voice was a breathless cry as his tongue masterfully worked the bud into a dark, erect peak. He was enjoying the taste of her skin all the more for the pleasure he knew it gave her. He had been forced to watch her all week in often little more than a bikini, and the new expanses of skin it had revealed to him had made him determined that he would know how each part of her body felt and tasted under his hands and mouth; that he would map her with his tongue and fingers.

She was really writhing now as each small suck he gave at her breast, each tiny pinch of his teeth on her nipple, or flicker of his rigid tongue, sent shooting bolts of electricity to her centre. It didn't help – or rather it did, _very_ much so – that his dexterous fingers were softly brushing patterns across the swell of the other breast, his thumb incredibly lightly brushing her nipple in a delicious but all too overwhelming contrast to the deliberate, focused attentions on its twin.

Her breath was beginning to escape in shorter and shorter shaky pants and her jaw felt stiff as her mouth trembled and a primal sound found its way from her throat. If he continued his skilled attentions then at this rate she would climax without him having even ventured south of her navel.

"Oh G-…" she broke off and inhaled sharply. "I ca-…, I'm go-…" again she was incapable of even finishing a phrase.

She felt his hand leave her breast and she knew that _he_ knew. She felt him part her legs; hot fingers against hotter flesh; and her brain hardly knew where to focus or what to feel apart from the intensity of it all. She was waiting for his next move. His tongue was gently lapping at the other, deserted, breast now, and his hand was between her thighs. Seemingly without hesitation, he pressed two fingers into her searing wetness, which had coated and fragranced her, and began to simulate a thrusting motion as the actions of his lips on her breast became once again more intense and deliberate.

She knew at once that she was about to lose it, as soon as his fingers had filled her, anchoring the pleasure to something concrete as her walls gripped him.

"Come for me, Ruth," he growled, and the sound was partially lost in the soft flesh of her chest. "Let go."

His fingers made a come-hither motion within her and he moved his thumb so that the pad pressed against the swollen little bead it sought and she finally came crashing around his digits with sharp, intense contractions which drew mewling cries from her throat and caused her whole body to spasm. She shuddered and tried to control her panting breaths but knew, without a doubt, that he intended to continue with his exquisite torture as he licked the soft curve of her breast and eased his fingers in and out of her again, albeit at a more languid pace. She felt hot, sweaty and decidedly restless as he moved his mouth lower and came to rest against the top of her left thigh, teasing and tormenting her with kisses and soft bites of her creamy flesh before licking the slight pain away.

She squirmed beneath him as his tongue trailed along the edge of her bikini line and chanted his name, softly at first, then more forcefully as his fingers moved with firmer, more determined strokes. Her hips rose off the bed and she was vaguely aware of cursing loudly as his hot mouth covered her and, with a feather light touch, traced the tip of his tongue over her clitoris repeatedly. Her hands twisted into the bed clothes as he continued his assault on her hot, damp flesh. His fingers giving way to his probing tongue as he explored and tasted every part of her.

"H-Harry..." she managed to pant his name and tugged on his hair gently to try and get him to stop. "I want...I want you inside me."

With a last sweep of his tongue he inched his way back up her body, his own throbbing erection a reminder of how much he wanted and needed her too. Their bodies pressed together, heated skin sticking together as he laid over her and teased them both by rubbing his hardened length against her opening. Ruth wrapped her leg around him, her heel digging into his backside as she lifted her hips and thrust against him. He took the hint and rolled his own hips forward at the same time as he captured her mouth in a tender kiss, their tongues tangling together as they finally became one. Their coupling was heated: for each thrust he gave she wanted more and with each roll of her hips he gave it to her. Their murmurs had long since turned nonsensical but they each knew what the other wanted and, as they reached the point of no return, Harry took her hand in his, their fingers entwining as the first waves of orgasm rushed through them both.

He tried to force himself to watch her, memorise her, as he affected her so powerfully. Her eyes screwed themselves shut, the skin around them flickering as her eyes moved beneath the lids, and her mouth fell open in a silent cry as the air rushed from her lungs in a ragged breath. He managed to keep them open long enough to watch the sporadic, sharp rise and fall of her scarlet flushed chest for a few seconds, before at was all too much and his eyes snapped shut as the final thread of control broke, a guttural, animal noise escaping as finally collapsed into her.

Their slick skin seemed to stick together, hot and damp, their scents mingled into a heady cocktail. Her torso still shook and she drew in air almost greedily as she tried to bring herself back down to earth. Her head was still thrown backwards, resting their now, eyes opening and closing in lazy blinks as he kissed the base of her jaw.

He softened and slipped out of her, and he rolled over, drawing her with him and pulling her close to his body. She rested against him, enjoying the heavy rise and fall of his chest, contented just to amuse her idle fingers with tracing patterns across his stomach.

"You've just made life very hard for yourself, Harry," she whispered, muffling her words into the side of his chest.

She felt him look down at her and she lifted her eyes to be sure.

"Are you going to elaborate?" he asked. There was a slight flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach, but she was smiling, so it couldn't be that bad.

Almost casually, she propped herself on one arm and faced him, a steady blush rising in her cheeks as she wished she hadn't opened her mouth. "That was…" she turned her head to stare at the ceiling, and then back to him, to try again. "You were…" she gulped, and the rest of the sentence came out as a whisper. "The most…the best I've ever-"

The rest of her sentence was swallowed in the firm kiss he reached up and planted on her lips. When he pulled back, a goofy, self assured grin was plastered across his face, despite his best attempts to at least try and seem modest.

She gave a brief laugh, suddenly released from the intimacy of telling him that. "Don't let it get to your head, you've set a bench mark now."

"Ruth," he growled, pulling her flush on top of him. "You've not seen anything yet."

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_**Please review! And send baby inducing thought to Kate, too!**_

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	30. Chapter 30

**Here endeth the fic...:-( **

**Em and I would just like to say a big thank you to everyone that has read and reviewed this work of fiction. It has taken many months to get this far from our original idea and I think both of us are a little bit sad to see it end. That being said there is a plan to do a sequel eventually, but not straight away since we're both incredibly busy at the moment. The next pea fic will actually be something a little bit different so keep an eye out for that in the future.**

**We hope you enjoy the last chapter. It is rated M so please don't read it if you shoudn't do so.**

Ruth wandered out onto the balcony, deciding to let Harry sleep a little longer. A sly smile flirted on her lips as the thought about how she might rouse him from his sleep. Her skin tingled at the thought and she decided she liked the idea, if not today, then sometime soon. The sun blazed in the early morning sky and she padded barefoot to the balcony railings, resting against them as the light breeze ruffled her already tousled hair. She breathed deeply, taking in a lungful of the sea salted air as she looked out across the ocean, a happy smile claiming her face as she thought about the man sleeping in the bedroom. Almost as if her thoughts had conjured him, she felt the unmistakable heat of his body pressed against her back through the light robe she wore and the strength of his arms as they encircled her waist.

His mouth nuzzled against her neck as he mumbled a sleepy greeting.

"Good morning sleepy head," she murmured as she twisted her neck and brushed a soft kiss across his pouting lips. "What's the pout for?"

"I woke up all alone," he complained and she tried not to smile at his child-like whine.

"I had planned to wake you up in a very nice way, Harry, but it'll have to wait for another day now."

He was definitely more awake as the implications of her words sunk in and she turned her gaze back out to sea. He pressed his mouth against her ear, tugging teasingly on her earlobe with his teeth before growling "I think I like the sound of that, Ruth."

She couldn't help the catch in her breath as he pressed himself against her more firmly and she could feel the pressure of his erection against her bottom. Her hands swept around them both and her palms smoothed against the very top of his outer thighs as she allowed her head to roll back onto his shoulder.

"You're naked." She stated a hint of arousal and amusement in her voice.

"So I am."

His hand slid inside the fold of her robe, fingers roaming her soft hidden flesh as they moved up her body. The tip of one finger tickled the underside of her breast lightly, making her shudder and sigh at the same time. "That's definitely not a gun in your pocket then?"

Her sigh turned to a moan as his fingers tweaked a peaked nipple whilst grinding against her. "I'm just very pleased to see you, Ruth."

Her breathy laugh changed to a slight squeal as he unexpectedly spun her around so that she faced him, she had a second or two to see the desire pooling in his eyes before she was pulled flush against his warm, naked body and his lips massaged against hers. Being with him this way felt so natural and right, she wanted to be this close to him always, to crawl inside him and possess every part of him so that they were always entwined together, two parts of one whole. The fierceness with which she kissed him back surprised them both a little and as her tongue taunted and teased his own her palms came to rest on the flat of his back and she caressed the smooth skin she found there, before moving them lower and raking her fingernails lightly over his bum until he shuddered and writhed in her arms.

She was merciful and stopped her assault on his deliciously firm buttocks as he turned them 180 degrees and marched her backwards. There was no talking, no time for questions or worries about the possible exposure of their most intimate moments. There was only need and want. A raw passion that consumed them both making their actions bolder and more definite. He pushed her against the 

glass of the patio door, the coolness of the surface through her robe a not unwelcomed parallel to the heat of his skin. He lifted her fractionally and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist, her back arching in anticipation as he ground against her whilst reaching a hand between them to undo the knot of her robe. The light cotton material parted and slid open at his touch, finally allowing him to glimpse his prize. Her head thudded against the glass as he lowered his head to her chest, his tongue circling her budded nipple and his teeth tugging on it gently at the precise moment that he slid inside her welcoming warmth.

Their coupling was frantic, an explosion of lust as they moved together, each thrust the other one made spurring the other one on. Her teeth clamped down firmly on her bottom lip, the slight pain a welcome distraction in the midst of their blissful union. She wanted to take him with her, to feel his warmth spread through her, for them to be one entity for as long as she could draw out. His fingers gripped her hips tightly and as he thrust up into her forcefully she sensed he was close. She could feel the beads of sweat running down her chest and let out a moan of longing as he leant in and licked her salty skin. It was enough to finally tip her over the edge and as she started to contract around him, he felt the tell tale signs of his own imminent release rushing through his body. One more thrust and he was lost, a half cry- half moan of her name torn from his lips as he spilled inside her pulsing walls.

Ruth shuddered as the icy blast of the air conditioning engulfed her as he carried her back inside; she snuggled closer to him and smiled as he gently placed her down in the middle of the bed. It was a good job he decided to follow her down since she had no intention of relinquishing her hold on him anytime soon. His body twisted with hers until they were a happy tangle of limbs and warm flesh, basking in the after glow of their intense love making.

"We should probably move at some point," she murmured as her lips brushed lightly over a patch of skin on his chest.

"Why on earth would we want to do something daft like that?"

She paused and looked up to find him watching her, "It's the last day, Harry; we should make the most of it."

"I intend to," his answering words were accompanied by him pulling her up his body and kissing her.

She rolled her eyes at him as she pulled out of the kiss and sat up, "Seriously, Harry."

"I am serious Ruth, we're not going anywhere," he sat up and propped himself against the headboard, reaching for her hand and tugging her closer. "I don't want to swim or sunbath or sight-see. I have everything I want right here."

She swallowed hard against the rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her in that moment and wondered fleetingly if she would ever get used to such declarations from him. She leant over and kissed him, working her tongue into his mouth and teasing him with lazy brushes of it against the tip of his own.

She laughed as he growled low in his throat before moving quickly and pinning her beneath him on the mattress. "At this rate people will think we're the newly weds, not Zaf and Jo!"

He gazed down on her, his expression turning tender as he whispered "Next time, we will be."

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**One final review? Please? xxx**


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